Several years ago, my boss sent me to a communications workshop on conducting public meetings. I don't conduct many public meetings, so I'm not sure why I was nominated to attend, but I learned some interesting things about communications in that seminar so I considered it to be time well spent.
One particularly useful nugget of information stuck with me, and I've found it adaptable to many different situations. The concept is this: in a given group of people discussing a particular issue, you will have at least three divisions- the people who already agree with you, the people who are undecided, somewhat pro-or con, or neutral about the issue, and the people who will never agree with you no matter what you say, unless you change your mind and agree with them 100%. You don't need to convince the people who already agree with you, and you'll never change the minds of the people who are strongly opposed to what you are saying, so your job is to convince the undecided.
Later (much later), it occurred to me that social media is really just one big wild and crazy never- ending public meeting, albeit one with no set agenda, no actual ending, and often, no facilitators.
I know, because I've been there, that it can be supremely tempting to get into a knock-down, drag-out verbal brawl with someone who has strongly different opinions about controversial subjects than you do. Changing that person's mind becomes a challenge almost impossible to resist. You post your facts, they post their facts. You refer to your life experiences (or the "I know someone who"). They refer to theirs, which are exactly opposite yours (they also know "someone"). The conversation starts to go downhill, if it ever had any hill to go down. In the end, no one is convinced and no minds are changed; essentially, everyone just wasted so much of their lives achieving nothing except elevated blood pressure.
My personal observation is that if someone is posting articles from very slanted "news sources" to prove their point, or using made up words that end in the suffix "-tard" to insult the other side, continually bringing up things that never actually happened, or posting tired memes to make their argument for them, engaging in any kind of debate is really an exercise in futility.
The second part of my thinking is this: remember all those people out there who are undecided or neutral? They're reading the discussion too, because this is on social media and nothing is really private on social media. Responding to a jerk on Facebook by being a jerk on Facebook isn't convincing anyone else that your perspective is the righteous one. To everyone else, it looks like two jerks fighting. I don't actually know the magic formula for changing peoples' minds, but I feel sure that it probably doesn't include being a jerk on Facebook.
Often, it's probably better just to walk away from the computer or put the phone down, go outside, take some cleansing breaths, and then go do something else for awhile.
All this isn't to say that hateful comments should go unchallenged, but when you feel called to challenge something hateful, go into it knowing that nothing you say will change the mind of the hater. Your actual audience is everyone else reading the comments. I don't think that there is only one good way to do this, but responding with equal levels of hate probably isn't the advisable method.
You might read this and think that you don't agree with anything I've written, and I'm fine with that. However, it seems like social media has taken the place of the backyard conversations among neighbors and the water cooler discussions among co-workers. Because it's easier to be nasty to people you're not actually looking at, the discussions can deteriorate quickly. I don't know how to fix the increasingly polarized society I find myself living in, although I wish I did. However, I also believe that there are two small things that could help: civility on social media and more face-to-face discussion. It is a lot harder to be mean to people when you are actually looking at them.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Monday, May 22, 2017
Summer Fun
The school year is winding down, and the Son of Never Stops Eating is eagerly looking forward to the first day of summer. A few days ago, we had the following conversation:
Son: Mom, are you ready for school to be over?
Me: Well, school was over for me about 25 years ago.
Son: Everyone is ready for school to be out. No one likes school.
Me: So what are you going to do this summer?
Son: Sleep, eat and go swimming. And play Minecraft.
I suspect that within about two hours of being freed from the onerous burdens of the formal educational process, he will begin uttering that summertime phrase dreaded by all parents: I'm bored.
In preparation for that, as a pre-emptive strike, I have prepared a list of suggested activities for the offspring to engage in this summer. Feel free to borrow shamelessly if you see anything you like.
Dear offspring: Here is your summer 2017 "No Boredom" list of things to do. If you are tempted to utter the phrase "I'm bored! There is nothing to do!", review this list and select an activity that appeals to you. Otherwise, an activity may be chosen for you. It will probably involve cleaning something.
Speaking of cleaning, show your own room some attention. Your room can never be too clean. Besides, who knows what you will find in there? Forgotten treasures? Overdue library books? Maybe even some money? You won't know unless you look! You could even go through your clothes and sort out what you still like from what needs to go away in preparation for back-to-school shopping.
Go to the library. The library is filled with great books, and they are all available for the low price of free. As a bonus, the library is very well air-conditioned. You can cool off and read great works of literature at the same time.
Invite some friends over for a Monopoly tournament (or Scrabble, or Clue, or dust off those old chess skills I paid big bucks for you to learn way back in elementary school).
You can never, ever, have too much clarinet practice.
Bake your mother something delicious, like some brownies or chocolate cake. Offer to cook dinner and clean the kitchen afterwards. Summer is a great time to improve those cooking skills. One of these days, you'll be in your own place. When that happens, you will be free from stupid parental rules but you will also have to cook your own meals. Eventually, you will get tired of cheese sandwiches.
Don't you have some college applications to work on? I thought so. Also, remember the magic phrase that makes your parents' hearts sing with joy: "Scholarship money".
Go outside. Yes, I know it's hot. What do you think people did back in the olden days when they had no air conditioning or television or iPads? They went outside. Somewhere in the garage there's a Frisbee; you could play Frisbee at the park. Take the dog for a walk (make sure it's not too hot for her paws).
Start a lemonade stand. You could even donate some of the profits to a good cause.
Find out what is at the dollar movie theater and call up a friend to go see a movie (okay, text a friend- yes, I know, no one actually calls anyone anymore). Or hang out at the house and have a 1980's movie marathon; you can laugh at the 1980's technology.
Call your grandfather.
Clean out your school backpack. I know there is probably paperwork in there from October; chances are good you probably don't need it at this point.
Enjoy your summer. Before you know it, you'll be a real adult, and then summer break will become a distant memory as you toil away at work- until you have your own kids, who will also likely be bored during summer vacation. And don't forget that clarinet practice.
Son: Mom, are you ready for school to be over?
Me: Well, school was over for me about 25 years ago.
Son: Everyone is ready for school to be out. No one likes school.
Me: So what are you going to do this summer?
Son: Sleep, eat and go swimming. And play Minecraft.
I suspect that within about two hours of being freed from the onerous burdens of the formal educational process, he will begin uttering that summertime phrase dreaded by all parents: I'm bored.
In preparation for that, as a pre-emptive strike, I have prepared a list of suggested activities for the offspring to engage in this summer. Feel free to borrow shamelessly if you see anything you like.
Dear offspring: Here is your summer 2017 "No Boredom" list of things to do. If you are tempted to utter the phrase "I'm bored! There is nothing to do!", review this list and select an activity that appeals to you. Otherwise, an activity may be chosen for you. It will probably involve cleaning something.
Speaking of cleaning, show your own room some attention. Your room can never be too clean. Besides, who knows what you will find in there? Forgotten treasures? Overdue library books? Maybe even some money? You won't know unless you look! You could even go through your clothes and sort out what you still like from what needs to go away in preparation for back-to-school shopping.
Go to the library. The library is filled with great books, and they are all available for the low price of free. As a bonus, the library is very well air-conditioned. You can cool off and read great works of literature at the same time.
Invite some friends over for a Monopoly tournament (or Scrabble, or Clue, or dust off those old chess skills I paid big bucks for you to learn way back in elementary school).
You can never, ever, have too much clarinet practice.
Bake your mother something delicious, like some brownies or chocolate cake. Offer to cook dinner and clean the kitchen afterwards. Summer is a great time to improve those cooking skills. One of these days, you'll be in your own place. When that happens, you will be free from stupid parental rules but you will also have to cook your own meals. Eventually, you will get tired of cheese sandwiches.
Don't you have some college applications to work on? I thought so. Also, remember the magic phrase that makes your parents' hearts sing with joy: "Scholarship money".
Go outside. Yes, I know it's hot. What do you think people did back in the olden days when they had no air conditioning or television or iPads? They went outside. Somewhere in the garage there's a Frisbee; you could play Frisbee at the park. Take the dog for a walk (make sure it's not too hot for her paws).
Start a lemonade stand. You could even donate some of the profits to a good cause.
Find out what is at the dollar movie theater and call up a friend to go see a movie (okay, text a friend- yes, I know, no one actually calls anyone anymore). Or hang out at the house and have a 1980's movie marathon; you can laugh at the 1980's technology.
Call your grandfather.
Clean out your school backpack. I know there is probably paperwork in there from October; chances are good you probably don't need it at this point.
Enjoy your summer. Before you know it, you'll be a real adult, and then summer break will become a distant memory as you toil away at work- until you have your own kids, who will also likely be bored during summer vacation. And don't forget that clarinet practice.
Wednesday, May 17, 2017
Appreciation
Last Sunday, as you probably know, was Mother's Day, or as the Son of Never Stops Eating calls it, Mom Appreciation Day. The family showered me with love and attention, homemade Mother's Day cards, and lunch at a restaurant of my choice. On Monday morning I woke up, got ready for work, and went into the kitchen to get some breakfast. The Son of Never Stops Eating was already there, preparing his lunch. I guess he felt like it was time for the Mother's Day festivities to formally end, because we had the following conversation:
Son: Mom, Mom Appreciation Day is over.
Me: Every day should be Mom Appreciation Day.
Son: Mom, you have to give other people a chance for appreciation, too!
I wanted to ask him why we could only appreciate one group of people at a time, but he apparently had more important things to do like blow things up on Minecraft, or something like that. Whatever he had to do, it did not involve putting away the peanut butter and bread; Mom Appreciation Day was clearly over. I think he might have been a bit annoyed because I had informed him a few days prior to Mom Appreciation Day that there is no formal "Teenager Appreciation Day".
I'll be honest; I like Mom Appreciation Day. I think most people like to feel appreciated, even when it's not Mother's Day or Father's Day or any of the days or weeks set aside for appreciation for specific groups of people, like teachers or nurses. But most of the time, it seems like instead of appreciating other people, we emphasize calling out the people who annoy us, or don't do what we want them to do, or who don't do what we think they should do.
I was thinking about this the last time that my parents visited, for Easter. My mother became distraught at being in what was to her an unfamiliar place, and the visit, which had been planned for three days, ended in less than 24 hours. My father looked tired and frustrated, and I thought after they left that caregivers to people with Alzheimer's must be among the most unappreciated people on the planet. Our society is not the greatest at taking care of the caregivers. We admire them, we express respect for them, but we don't really appreciate the work they do; if our society did, we'd make it easier on them.
So Dad, if you read this, I appreciate you.
A few years ago, for Lent, I started a project that involved writing notes or e-mails or sending texts to people who I appreciated, for one reason or another. I am sorry to report that this project lasted about two weeks; I got distracted by work and teenager stuff and then Lent was over. Perhaps I should pick that project back up.
I have a long list of people I appreciate: I appreciate the counselors at the high school, because I can't imagine having to coordinate class schedules for four thousand students. I'm sure that is a gargantuan undertaking, and they probably get a lot of unhappy people before it's all done. I appreciate my friends and fellow community members who have included my son in their conversations, even when I know they really don't want to talk about Legos or the evil Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. After several hours driving around with a student driver, I definitely appreciate every person who works as a driver's education instructor. Anyone who does that for a living must have serious nerves of steel.
I know that showing more appreciation to others isn't going to bring about world peace or solve the major issues of our time, but maybe if we took the Son of Never Stops Eating's advice and gave out more appreciation and fewer complaints, it might make this cold, hard world a slightly better place.
Son: Mom, Mom Appreciation Day is over.
Me: Every day should be Mom Appreciation Day.
Son: Mom, you have to give other people a chance for appreciation, too!
I wanted to ask him why we could only appreciate one group of people at a time, but he apparently had more important things to do like blow things up on Minecraft, or something like that. Whatever he had to do, it did not involve putting away the peanut butter and bread; Mom Appreciation Day was clearly over. I think he might have been a bit annoyed because I had informed him a few days prior to Mom Appreciation Day that there is no formal "Teenager Appreciation Day".
I'll be honest; I like Mom Appreciation Day. I think most people like to feel appreciated, even when it's not Mother's Day or Father's Day or any of the days or weeks set aside for appreciation for specific groups of people, like teachers or nurses. But most of the time, it seems like instead of appreciating other people, we emphasize calling out the people who annoy us, or don't do what we want them to do, or who don't do what we think they should do.
I was thinking about this the last time that my parents visited, for Easter. My mother became distraught at being in what was to her an unfamiliar place, and the visit, which had been planned for three days, ended in less than 24 hours. My father looked tired and frustrated, and I thought after they left that caregivers to people with Alzheimer's must be among the most unappreciated people on the planet. Our society is not the greatest at taking care of the caregivers. We admire them, we express respect for them, but we don't really appreciate the work they do; if our society did, we'd make it easier on them.
So Dad, if you read this, I appreciate you.
A few years ago, for Lent, I started a project that involved writing notes or e-mails or sending texts to people who I appreciated, for one reason or another. I am sorry to report that this project lasted about two weeks; I got distracted by work and teenager stuff and then Lent was over. Perhaps I should pick that project back up.
I have a long list of people I appreciate: I appreciate the counselors at the high school, because I can't imagine having to coordinate class schedules for four thousand students. I'm sure that is a gargantuan undertaking, and they probably get a lot of unhappy people before it's all done. I appreciate my friends and fellow community members who have included my son in their conversations, even when I know they really don't want to talk about Legos or the evil Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. After several hours driving around with a student driver, I definitely appreciate every person who works as a driver's education instructor. Anyone who does that for a living must have serious nerves of steel.
I know that showing more appreciation to others isn't going to bring about world peace or solve the major issues of our time, but maybe if we took the Son of Never Stops Eating's advice and gave out more appreciation and fewer complaints, it might make this cold, hard world a slightly better place.
Friday, May 12, 2017
Survey This
For some reason, May seems to be Survey Month. In the last week or so, I've gotten surveys from my electricity provider, my bank, and a charity I donate to. I've also gotten surveys from my employer asking about my satisfaction as an employee, where I think the leadership is successful, and where I think the leadership could improve.
When it comes to that one, I suspect they're asking the wrong questions. We all know that no matter how many times I indicate I'd be happier with a 100% raise, that isn't going to happen. I think they need to be asking the questions everyone needs clarified for workplace harmony, like:
Who, in your opinion, is responsible for cleaning out the break room fridge?
a) The administrative staff
b) The female employees
c) The person most repulsed by the two-month old unclaimed tuna sandwich
d) It should be on a rotating basis
e) The person who spilled the tomato juice and didn't clean it up.
Or, this one:
What, in your opinion, is the appropriate first step to take when the printer jams?
a) Pretend it didn't happen
b) Call tech support
c) Attempt to fix it yourself by dismantling the entire machine
d) Tell the intern to fix it
e) Verbally threaten the printer with dire consequences and wait to see if that has an effect on its behavior.
Then, after I'd given it more thought, I wondered if maybe I should survey my offspring. Completely anonymous, of course. First, it would be helpful for household management purposes to see what the teenagers are really thinking; second, it would help improve morale by letting the teenagers know that I care about their thoughts and opinions; and finally, it would either confirm my success as a parent or indicate where I need to increase my efforts and improve my performance. For example:
The level of maternal nagging in this household is:
a) Too much- leave me alone!
b) Mostly okay but sometimes you get on my nerves
c) Just right
d) You could nag me a bit more; I'm feeling slightly under-nagged
e) I feel that substantially increased nagging would make me a better contributor to society.
What is your understanding of where money comes from?
a) The money tree in the backyard.
b) Mom's paycheck
c) You go to the bank and ask for some, and they give it to you!
d) A little plastic card with your name on it
e) I have no idea but I could use $20
When the dog starts whining to go outside, the appropriate response is to:
a) Yell for a parent to do it
b) Ignore it
c) Insist that it's your sibling's turn because you did it last time
e) Open the door, let the dog out, and then leave the door open and forget about it until someone asks, five hours later, why the back door is open.
d) Let the dog out, let the dog back in, and shut the door.
When it comes to chores, I am:
a) Overworked and substantially underpaid
b) Paying my sibling in secret to do them for me
c) Happy to do them; doing chores helps me contribute to the family.
d) I want to do more! I'm ready to take on more responsibility!
e) Looking forward to the day I move out and get my own place so I can do what I want instead of having to unload the dishwasher and vacuum the floor.
I haven't decided yet, but I'm seriously considering this. After all, it would be interesting to see the results. Also, since filling out surveys seems to be part of adult life, the teenagers could probably use the practice.
When it comes to that one, I suspect they're asking the wrong questions. We all know that no matter how many times I indicate I'd be happier with a 100% raise, that isn't going to happen. I think they need to be asking the questions everyone needs clarified for workplace harmony, like:
Who, in your opinion, is responsible for cleaning out the break room fridge?
a) The administrative staff
b) The female employees
c) The person most repulsed by the two-month old unclaimed tuna sandwich
d) It should be on a rotating basis
e) The person who spilled the tomato juice and didn't clean it up.
Or, this one:
What, in your opinion, is the appropriate first step to take when the printer jams?
a) Pretend it didn't happen
b) Call tech support
c) Attempt to fix it yourself by dismantling the entire machine
d) Tell the intern to fix it
e) Verbally threaten the printer with dire consequences and wait to see if that has an effect on its behavior.
Then, after I'd given it more thought, I wondered if maybe I should survey my offspring. Completely anonymous, of course. First, it would be helpful for household management purposes to see what the teenagers are really thinking; second, it would help improve morale by letting the teenagers know that I care about their thoughts and opinions; and finally, it would either confirm my success as a parent or indicate where I need to increase my efforts and improve my performance. For example:
The level of maternal nagging in this household is:
a) Too much- leave me alone!
b) Mostly okay but sometimes you get on my nerves
c) Just right
d) You could nag me a bit more; I'm feeling slightly under-nagged
e) I feel that substantially increased nagging would make me a better contributor to society.
What is your understanding of where money comes from?
a) The money tree in the backyard.
b) Mom's paycheck
c) You go to the bank and ask for some, and they give it to you!
d) A little plastic card with your name on it
e) I have no idea but I could use $20
When the dog starts whining to go outside, the appropriate response is to:
a) Yell for a parent to do it
b) Ignore it
c) Insist that it's your sibling's turn because you did it last time
e) Open the door, let the dog out, and then leave the door open and forget about it until someone asks, five hours later, why the back door is open.
d) Let the dog out, let the dog back in, and shut the door.
When it comes to chores, I am:
a) Overworked and substantially underpaid
b) Paying my sibling in secret to do them for me
c) Happy to do them; doing chores helps me contribute to the family.
d) I want to do more! I'm ready to take on more responsibility!
e) Looking forward to the day I move out and get my own place so I can do what I want instead of having to unload the dishwasher and vacuum the floor.
I haven't decided yet, but I'm seriously considering this. After all, it would be interesting to see the results. Also, since filling out surveys seems to be part of adult life, the teenagers could probably use the practice.
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Class of 2018
Last Tuesday, the Teenager and I were summoned to the high school after hours for a very important meeting. The theme of this meeting: Class of 2018- Are You Ready?
Yes. Yes, I am absolutely ready for this. I have been ready for this from the moment of the first adolescent eye roll. I'm thinking of all the free time I'll have in the fall of 2018 when the Teenager is off to college and I'm free of Band Mom duties. No more concession stand or pie sales for me. I can reclaim the entire month of August for my own purposes. I've mentally started planning the transition of her bedroom from teenager lair to Mom's Study, complete with an entire bookshelf set aside for my field guides.
Ok, wait a minute. That entire last paragraph was a complete lie. I am a blathering blob of emotions. No, I am not ready for this. We're talking about my baby here. We're talking about the sweet little girl I brought home from the hospital back in 2000, swaddled in pink blankets, and there is no way that she is old enough to be a senior in high school. This "Are you ready" bit is a sad story. I'm going to sit here and cry about it, because I still have a bunch of Mom stuff that I need to do, and 12 months just isn't going to be enough time.
I remember, several years ago, going to 6th grade orientation at the middle school, and as part of that orientation the school band played for the parents. At the time, the Teenager had yet to start playing the clarinet (although I had already signed my life away to the instrument rental place to acquire one on a rent to own agreement), and I was still thinking of her as a little kid. The 7th and 8th grade band kids not only sounded like they knew what they were doing, they looked considerably more grown up that what I was prepared for. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Go back! I'm not ready for this! Stop growing up!".
Actually, that's not entirely true either. Part of me felt that way, but another part of me was excited that in a year, I'd be watching my 7th grader playing that clarinet for the new 6th graders, acquiring new skills, making new friends and becoming more independent. It was fascinating to watch the Teenager shed her childhood self, slowly growing into her adulthood. I could see bits and pieces of myself, the Dad of No, and her grandparents emerging in her appearance and her personality, and it was pretty darn cool to witness.
Actually, that last paragraph is almost completely bogus. I cried like a baby at work the day she started 6th grade. The woman in the stall next to me in the ladies room finally knocked on the door of the stall I was in and asked, "Are you OK?" No, I told her. My daughter is starting middle school today. "Oh, teenagers", she said in a knowing voice. "Well, good luck to you", she said in a voice that really said "The Doom is upon you! Run away while you still can!".
So am I ready? I honestly have no idea if I'm ready. I'm torn between "No! Wait! I don't want you to leave me! I'm not done yet!" and "Go, fly, my little fledgling, be free!".
I think about all the firsts and milestones that have been scratched off the list: first day of school, first sleepaway Girl Scout camp, braces on, braces off, first time behind the wheel of a car, first part-time job, first time marching out on the field with the high school marching band as a 9th grader. Now, we start scratching off the list of lasts- last first day of school; last school pictures, last marching band season, last time I nag her to clean her room and hang up her clothes.
Am I ready? Yes, I am ready. No, I am not ready. I have no idea. I'm not sure how much it matters; it's coming for me anyway whether I am ready or not. The Teenager seems to be ready; maybe that's the more important thing here anyway.
I do know two thing to be unambiguously true: (1) Evidently, I will be writing a lot of checks; and (2) When the day finally comes to repurpose the Teenager's room, I apparently have competition in the household. The Son of Never Stops Eating has evidently been eyeing that space for his Lego Creation Studio.
Yes. Yes, I am absolutely ready for this. I have been ready for this from the moment of the first adolescent eye roll. I'm thinking of all the free time I'll have in the fall of 2018 when the Teenager is off to college and I'm free of Band Mom duties. No more concession stand or pie sales for me. I can reclaim the entire month of August for my own purposes. I've mentally started planning the transition of her bedroom from teenager lair to Mom's Study, complete with an entire bookshelf set aside for my field guides.
Ok, wait a minute. That entire last paragraph was a complete lie. I am a blathering blob of emotions. No, I am not ready for this. We're talking about my baby here. We're talking about the sweet little girl I brought home from the hospital back in 2000, swaddled in pink blankets, and there is no way that she is old enough to be a senior in high school. This "Are you ready" bit is a sad story. I'm going to sit here and cry about it, because I still have a bunch of Mom stuff that I need to do, and 12 months just isn't going to be enough time.
I remember, several years ago, going to 6th grade orientation at the middle school, and as part of that orientation the school band played for the parents. At the time, the Teenager had yet to start playing the clarinet (although I had already signed my life away to the instrument rental place to acquire one on a rent to own agreement), and I was still thinking of her as a little kid. The 7th and 8th grade band kids not only sounded like they knew what they were doing, they looked considerably more grown up that what I was prepared for. I wanted to turn to her and say, "Go back! I'm not ready for this! Stop growing up!".
Actually, that's not entirely true either. Part of me felt that way, but another part of me was excited that in a year, I'd be watching my 7th grader playing that clarinet for the new 6th graders, acquiring new skills, making new friends and becoming more independent. It was fascinating to watch the Teenager shed her childhood self, slowly growing into her adulthood. I could see bits and pieces of myself, the Dad of No, and her grandparents emerging in her appearance and her personality, and it was pretty darn cool to witness.
Actually, that last paragraph is almost completely bogus. I cried like a baby at work the day she started 6th grade. The woman in the stall next to me in the ladies room finally knocked on the door of the stall I was in and asked, "Are you OK?" No, I told her. My daughter is starting middle school today. "Oh, teenagers", she said in a knowing voice. "Well, good luck to you", she said in a voice that really said "The Doom is upon you! Run away while you still can!".
So am I ready? I honestly have no idea if I'm ready. I'm torn between "No! Wait! I don't want you to leave me! I'm not done yet!" and "Go, fly, my little fledgling, be free!".
I think about all the firsts and milestones that have been scratched off the list: first day of school, first sleepaway Girl Scout camp, braces on, braces off, first time behind the wheel of a car, first part-time job, first time marching out on the field with the high school marching band as a 9th grader. Now, we start scratching off the list of lasts- last first day of school; last school pictures, last marching band season, last time I nag her to clean her room and hang up her clothes.
Am I ready? Yes, I am ready. No, I am not ready. I have no idea. I'm not sure how much it matters; it's coming for me anyway whether I am ready or not. The Teenager seems to be ready; maybe that's the more important thing here anyway.
I do know two thing to be unambiguously true: (1) Evidently, I will be writing a lot of checks; and (2) When the day finally comes to repurpose the Teenager's room, I apparently have competition in the household. The Son of Never Stops Eating has evidently been eyeing that space for his Lego Creation Studio.
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