Any time I hear the phrase "Family Values" something deep down inside makes me want to retch. I tell myself it's because hearing it makes me think of intolerant, close-minded, God-fearing, Christian right wing politicians.  

But if I'm being honest, maybe I'm afraid I don't have any myself and I've failed at instilling them in my own family.  That's why I've always avoided finding out exactly what that term means.

"Family Values" sounds like it takes lots of work to get right.   Years and years of work.  Long-term, tedious, committed hard work and also, it's probably a good idea to practice what you're preaching.  

That is not my style at all. 

I opted for the quickie version of instilling values in my family by combining the principle of Disney World's FASTPASS and the mothering techniques of the average cat.  I birthed them, taught them a few rudimentary skills including how to catch mice and then we bypassed the long lines of families doing family values things and went our separate ways.

We occasionally cross paths in the kitchen but we avoid making eye contact.   

The other morning, I was relaxing with the newspaper and a cup of coffee as I studiously ignored the prostrate child at my feet.  She was clutching her little pink Precious Moments Bible in one arm and had the other wrapped around my ankles.  She was pleading, "Please teach me about Jesus, Mommy!  Please! Please!"

Just then an article on the front page of the paper caught my eye.

GOP HOPEFULS STRESS THEIR 'FAMILY VALUES.' 

Apparently the Republican presidential candidates know  they have a better chance at getting the party's nomination if they're seen as a "Family Values" kind of guy. 

I had a feeling I was about to learn what "Family Values" means and a chilling thought occurred to me.  

Maybe the only reason you hate that phrase so much is because it makes you feel lazy and inadequate and also reminds you that you're a tacit contributor to the disintegration of the American social fabric.

Could that be moi?  

No no no!  I love my family!  I put my family first! I can stress my family values just like the GOP hopefuls.  In fact, I stress about my family all the time and I'll bet a lot of other families love their families and are stressed about them too. Like, how to feed them and keep a roof over their heads and get through another day.  Doesn't "Family Values" mean valuing families?

Now I was worried. Did I or didn't I have "Family Values.  I had to read that article and find out.  But I needed peace and quiet, no squirming, Bible-banging children at my feet. 

"Get out of this kitchen right now and go catch some mice," I snarled and stood up.  "You can use your Bible to bash their little heads in," I added, shoving her through the doggy door with both hands.   Then I locked it.

A second later she was pounding on the sliding door.  "Let me in, please, it's cold out here, Mommy!" 

It was a mere 29 degrees and it's not my fault she won't wear slippers.  One of the things I have tried to teach my children is consequences.  If you don't wear slippers when you go outside on a day when the temperature's below-freezing, your feet eventually will fall off.

"Bring me a dead mouse and we'll talk," I yelled and snapped the blinds shut.  If a cat could survive outside, then she should be able to figure something out.

Then I turned back to the paper with trepidation.  There was little sidebar question: "Are family values important to you when voting for a presidential candidate?" it asked and gave the paper's web address.

I had no answer.  Nothing to do but read the damned article.

It said that  "Family Values" have been defined as opposing abortion and same-sex marriage and believing that Judeo-Christian principles should be reflected in the public square.

This was it?  This was what I'd been sweating over all these years, worried that I didn't have them and afraid to find out what I was missing?

What these things had to do with families, I had no idea.  And values.  What values?

A "Family Values" person is basically a nosy, opinionated, holier-than-thou bigot. 

That's not important to me in a presidential candidate.  I don't even want that in my mailman.

I looked out the sliding doors just in time to see my daughter scampering across the yard with what looked like a dead animal in her jaws.  I flung open the door and a rush of Family Values-loaded love overwhelmed me as she dropped the lifeless thing at my feet."  She looked up hopefully, face blue with cold, teeth chattering.

"C-c-c-couldnt ffffind any mice! So I caught the n-n-n-eighbor's new dog instead."

They'd gotten a sweet little cockapoo for Christmas for Timmy, their mute, meek, gentle, autistic, terminally ill, wheelchair-bound only child.  It was his beloved companion and only friend in the world.

I admired the clean kill my girl had made and also her resourcefulness. Someone else's kid might have come home empty-handed, but not mine. So maybe my daughter hadn't used the best judgment.  She's only 11; that'll come with time.   

I picked up the creature by its tail and deposited it in the trash can.  "No one saw anything, did they?"  I asked her.

"Only Timmy; he was sitting at the window in his wheelchair.  Good thing he was strapped in; he was going crazy watching me chase it.  But don't worry, he can't talk," she crowed. 

"That's my girl."  I gave her a hug and pulled her inside.  Who says my family doesn't have "Family Values."  

"Let's have some hot cocoa," I said.

"And will you read to me about Jesus?" she asked.

"Maybe later," I said.  I had no intention of reading that silly kiddy book to her.  We were way beyond that.  Besides, I had a more applicable selection in mind.

I made the cocoa and we settled into the couch together.   "I think you'll like this one better than the Bible; it's one of Mommy's favorites," I said as she beamed at me and I opened The Silence of the Lambs.