Being tired as a grown up is a sign that you matter. You’ve created a life where you’re needed.
Snap at a friend and they dismiss it. Do the same to your kid, they’ll bring it up at Thanksgiving when you’re 60.
Suddenly, you’re no longer Zack Morris. You’re now Mr. Belding.
You don’t have to be expressly called a dipstick by an elementary school kid in order to feel like one.
The reality is that there are plenty of times when we, as adults, need to get away from the kids in order to steal a few sobering moments to ourselves.
Suddenly all the corny nonsense you were forced to do for the sake of family unity has become a source of humiliation again.
The bizarre humor that rushes through my head is decades below my own age group and doesn’t even need an audience to spring up.
Every family has their own language. It’s made up of words or phrases that no one else would understand. Every person contributes. Every person speaks it.
“What time do you guys fight Santa?”
The days of, “there are no socks up here” quickly become “I’m going to a study group with friends” as they hit the teenage years.