A Night in the Life

I cannot connect my laptop to the Internet today, so I am writing this post on my phone. That’s my excuse for the errors. I usually have no excuse to offer, but today I do.

Tonight I will give you a peek at a usual night in the Grown Up household . . .

My husband is stressed from his day at work and has decided to complete a puzzle to “release his frustration.” And raising mine as the sorted piles consume every corner of my table. 

Elder’s best friend told him he couldn’t write a poem on nature. So, now, he is researching poetry. He doesn’t like poetry. He likes losing a challenge even less apparently.

Younger is using his Jedi mind tricks to convince me I do not want my portion of the bread with dinner. Even Obi-Wan Kanobi was not that talented. This is the bread that I want with my dinner.

And I am listening to all the chaos with quiet contentment.

I am blessed.

Betrayal

Living somewhere in the back of beyond, we have few options for internet. For the last eighteen months, we have settled on tethering to our phones. But we only have twenty gig of data.

So, let’s do some math.

Twenty gig of data divided by two young men equals . . . no data in about five minutes.

Since I need internet for my employment, we have warned the boys that we will shut them down at six gig.

And so we have.

Every. Single. Month.

This month they almost lasted three weeks. But on Tuesday, Younger’s birthday, I checked the current usage.

“You’re over your limit,” I told Younger.

“No, I’m not,” he stated, staring into my eyes like he had access to the Jedi mind trick. “I’m not over my limit.”

I rolled my eyes, and due to the day being his seventeenth birthday, I allowed him to continue to have access.

His dad was not so gifting. Or perhaps he is immune to the Jedi.

“Will be late. Had to stop to turn off the boys’ data,” he texted me while I was in class.

“The betrayal,” Younger howled as soon as I stepped into the house. “The treachery.”

“You know the limits, Younger,” I responded.

“How can you so betray me? Your only teenage son?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Where do you want to go for your birthday?”

“Wherever they have internet.”

“You are spending time with your family, not your phone.”

“Oh, the betrayal!”

Ah, that he has to deal with such perfidy. And on his birthday, even.

Life . . . without internet . . . apparently, it ain’t for the sissies.

I really don’t know how are forefathers survived.