My 12-year-old voice of reason

A few reflections on a busy week and why my son is grounded.

TGIF.

I’m glad the week has come to a close. It’s been a stressful one.

We notably took our daughter back to college. While certainly challenging, the week has been stressful in other ways.

For example: I had to replace the brakes on my car (an expense I wasn’t expecting); temporarily lost my wallet, sending me into a frantic search; tweaked my ankle when I went running, forcing me to walk with a strange limp that looked half like a robot and the other half like a drunk golfer; nearly gave myself a concussion when I leaned over to pick something up and hit my forehead on my desk; and had to give an on-the-spot presentation – sales pitch for something I was hoping to have a few more weeks to prepare. And that was just Thursday.

And, most importantly, I was wrestling with my 12-yeard-old son and he let me know that the circular bald spot on top of my head is getting larger by the day. “Dad it’s like a sandy island that’s getting swallowed by the sea. You should think about shaving it all off.”

My first thought: Nice kid? I can think of a few other names to call him, but the Ward Cleaver voice in the back of my head keeps reminding that it would be best to keep it clean. My son is right of course and I’ll be sure to tell him that when I’m done grounding him in about twenty years. Nah, make that thirty years. What a little bugger.  

In the meantime, however, I’m glad the weekend is here. Time to regroup and come out fighting next week.