A television public service announcement proclaims, "Talk to your children about smoking, and they won't smoke."

Every time I hear it, my chest fills with pangs of guilt, and my stomach churns in anguish.

The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention website states:  "Despite the impact of movies, music, and TV, parents can be the GREATEST INFLUENCE in their kids’ lives."

I don't smoke, neither does their father.  We don't allow smoking in our home.  I talked till I was blue in the face, and my kids experimented with cigarettes anyway.

Nobody in our family encourages smoking.  One of their grandmothers stopped smoking before either of our children was born, and the other grandmother never smoked.  Their grandfather stopped smoking his pipe.

I'm not wishy-washy about my feelings.  When anyone smokes in my presence, my eyes redden and tear.  My nose runs, and I sneeze repeatedly.  People kindly don't smoke when I'm in the room or vehicle. 

Various incarnations of the television spot show a mother voicing disapproval of smoking or asking questions about the kid's friends.  I did all those things.  My kids smoked anyway.

Why?  Probably peer pressure, the desire to fit in, to be one of the guys.

What aggravates me the most is the subtle message that I failed.  If my kid smokes, then I didn't use my influence to stop him.

My children grew up in a smoking-free home.  None of our regular associates smoked.  I remember when our younger son found out that his third grade teacher smoked.  He was shocked.

My sister smokes, and none of her kids do.  I don't understand.

Isn't it bad enough that my children chose to become smokers when they were teenagers without public service announcements insinuating that I could have prevented it?

That tv spot really burns me up.

I have a headache.