You had me at "Empty Cat-Food Can Genie," Brett Berk.

Berk, the author of "The Gay Uncle's Guide to Parenting" (Random House, $13.95), has managed to produce a parenting manual that takes parenting seriously without taking itself too seriously. The book manages to be witty, wise, thought-provoking and, oh yeah, helpful.

Early on, the Diaper Genie — that perennial shower gift — comes up. "We don't have dedicated receptacles for every other kind of stank trash — Salmon Skin Genie; Empty Cat-Food Can Genie — I don't see cause to invent one for this."

The Diaper Genie screed leads to a warning against what Berk calls "parental infantilization," that sly marketing technique used to con you into purchasing things like baby wipe warmers and Boppy cushions.

"The baby business seems to play on your fears that you're ill-equipped for the job and are going to do it all wrong," he writes. "No wonder we have a generation of parents who have so much trouble being the grown-up."

Amen, my brutha!

Wait a minute. I am that generation of parents.

Berk has a master's degree in education and two decades of experience working with young children, including as a preschool director in New York City. He does not, however, have kids. So where does he get off telling people how to parent?

"Not all dentists have cavities and not all plastic surgeons have face-lifts," he responds in a phone interview. "Not being a parent per se, you can still understand how children work.

"And I offer an outsider's perspective. Those of us who've been in therapy realize that having an external view of something can be helpful. Especially with familial dynamics."

Since reading the book, I've found myself relying on much of Berk's advice. One of my favorite chapters is about effectively talking to your kids, specifically resisting the urge to overuse "no" and "don't."

"'No' and 'don't' statements provide kids with something to rebel against," he writes. Instead, "give them positive direction."

So "Don't splash in the tub" becomes "The water needs to stay in the tub." "Don't stand on your chair" becomes "The chair is for sitting."

It may sound like hair-splitting, but it sure makes a difference at my house.

If Berk could change one bad parenting habit, what would it be?

"Not being the grown-up," he said. "The whole 'my kid's my best friend, they have an equal say in how things go.' Kids should be involved. You're not a heartless dictator, you're there to help them and guide them. But often people create so much drama by casting their kid in a role that a child's not capable of handling. Like asking a kid, 'Do you want to take a nap?"'

But isn't that rooted in love? A reaction, maybe, from parents who were raised rigidly and want their kids to have a happier existence?

"Well, there are benefits to thinking about children as humans," he laughed. "But the answer to being raised by a merciless overlord is not to be best friends with your child. ... They don't come out knowing everything. They don't know the stove is hot. They don't know they can't fly. You have to be a parent."

All of which makes perfect sense, of course. But as "Gay Uncle's Guide" attests, it ain't always easy to do the right thing. Berk's book is full of anecdotes about parents (mostly his friends and family) losing themselves in a "parenting bubble," lying to their kids, purchasing wipe warmers.

Which raises the question: How do those folks feel about the book?

"My soon-to-be ex-friends, you mean?" he laughed. "No, they're a little bit tweaked by it, but they all know that I love them and I love their kids. I'm writing out of love. Actually, I hear a lot of 'I can't believe how crazy that other friend of yours is."'