Time Machine

Played “Purple Rain” in the car for the kids. They thought it was nice. I realized they would never have it burned into their souls, blaring from a cheap DJ booth in a middle school gym, wearing shoes that look nice but pinch, hand-me-down jeans and his heart in his throat, praying for the nerve to ask that perfectly beautiful magical girl to dance but instead standing frozen wondering if he just lost some weight and learned to spike his hair like the cool guys maybe she would love him. You’re right kids, it is a nice song. And a helluva time machine.

That escalated quickly

My Oldest, age 13: “I’m thirsty.”

Me: “You’re dehydrated. You should drink more water.”

Oldest: “I WOULD drink more water but my school is run by water Nazis. And girls have to wear sleeves. God forbid we wear short shorts, but that’s all that Target sells. Seriously. Middle school is like Communist China but with homework.”