Her: “My head hurts.”
Me: “Can you smell things? How’s your sense of smell?”
Her: “I smell things fine. Quit jumping to that conclusion. If I stub my toe, you aren’t going to take my temperature.”
Me: “But lack of coordination is a covid symptom.”
Her: “I hate this life! Go away.”
Son: “Dad, you should get up at 5am and cook breakfast. You handle sleep deprivation better than I do.”
Me: “So, Noah, how’s it feel to be gainfully employed?”
Noah: “Pretty good!”
Me: “You know that Weigel’s card in your car you use to pay for your gas directly from your parent’s bank account? Let’s give that back to your mother.”
Noah: “Oh. Okay.”
Noah, complaining to older sister: “They made me give back the gas card.”
Older sister: “What?! They never paid for my gas!”
Last night, as I prepared dinner, I asked my youngest (14) if he wanted to play a game of chess. He eagerly agreed and after finishing his battle on his computer game, set up the chess set on the table. We started playing. I made a move then prepped an ingredient for dinner. Made another move, prepped. After I stood up for the third time, my son said, “Dad, I’m going to go do my school work before it gets too late.” That hit me in the feels. Fortunately, dinner was ready to go into the oven for 30 minutes. I felt I was a few moves away from checkmating him so I said, “I’m about to end you. Let’s finish. This will be quick.” He perked up and I gave my undivided attention to him and the game. In the blink of an eye, the oven beeped. 30 minutes passed in the flash of an eye and the game had turned. Two terrible moves by me gave my son control of the board and he destroyed me. Then he returned to his room to either study or game or both. It was a great moment.
I wish I could turn the clock back 19 years and make every night like last night. I have allowed busy to replace bonds. Excuses to prevent experiences. I have great children. They have had good lives. I could have done so much better. With the time I have left, I will do so much better!
Don’t drink and buy apps for your cat.
My children may never know
How many tears I shed for them
Tears of joy for their successes
Tears of sadness when they are down
Tears of regret for my mistakes
Tears of anguish at my shortcomings
Tears of frustration for lack of time
Tears of angst for their future
Tears of confusion when they do not listen
Tears of acknowledgment that they walk their own path
Tears of befuddlement for making the simple hard
Tears of acceptance for innocence lost
Tears of pride for the compliments they receive
Tears of satisfaction when they smile at their achievements
Tears of ecstasy seeing them grow into independent adults
Adult son takes over garage…I can cope.
Adult son takes over driveway…I can cope.
Adult son takes over lower lot of yard and landscaping…I’m a little twerked but I can cope.
Adult son takes over refrigerator and kitchen…we may have just crossed a line.
I’ve reached that point in my life when I have decided I want a 2.5 or 3 car garage…so that my adult child can live in an efficiency over said garage.
Me: "Happy birthday! What do you want to do on your special day?"
Evan, 13 today: "I’m going to spend the day at the pool with two girls from West High School."
Me: *Well, that escalated quickly.*
This is what it is like having a phone call with your teenager:
Me: "I love you."
Teen: "Alright. Bye."
I have all the parts to build my new keyboard. I am on a pseudo-vacation this week. Building and programming the keyboard was one of my intended projects. At the airport, my 12-year-old son asked me not to build it because he wants to help. You can darn well bet that putting that keyboard together can wait a couple more weeks!
Evan: "Daaad, I know how to brush my teeth. I’ve been doing it for 12 years."
16 years of amazing adventures with Cathy and so many more adventures to come.
Evan, entering the house with an Amazon package: "The postman says we are his best customer!"