Sunday night I reminded my kids they had a dentist appointment Monday.
My oldest said, “Okay, how’s this going to work?”
I was puzzled by the question; the kid’s had braces for a year and is quite familiar with dental procedures. “It’s just a cleaning and checkup,” I began.
My husband intervened to provide a translation. “What he means is, will he be getting out of school for this?”
Ah. Right.
Me: We could watch one of our Netflix movies.
He: I’m not really enthusiastic about any of the ones we’ve got.
Me: Neither am I. They’re like cars on the freeway.
He: *puzzled look*
Me: It’s like how some cars go slow on the freeway, and the fast cars catch up to them and then get all bunched up because they can’t get past. That’s how our movies are that we only sort of want to see. We watch the ones we’re really interested in first, and then we’ve got the slow movers left, bunching everything up behind them.
He: Sometimes I think you’d be happier if you were less intelligent. You wouldn’t have so many thoughts.
Me: I wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining to you, though.
He: True.
My youngest is 13 today.
I now have two teenagers living in my house.
God help me.