Me to my 18 year old, who is frustrated that he has to ride the city bus or his bike to college, which is 13 miles away:
“If you could go back and tell your 17 year old self to get a job and save some money so your current self could buy a car, would you?”
Him, dubious of my mother-wisdom or, more likely, smelling work should he answer to the affirmative, “Well, maybe, maybe not.”
Me, struggling, and failing, not to roll my eyes “Right. Okay, but what do you think your a-year-from-now-self would like the current you to do about the whole job-car thing?”
Him, scratching head, “Um, I suppose get a job and save money . . . Maybe.“
Um . . . jah, maybe, ya think? Sigh . . .
I miss parenting a toddler who smears poo on the floor and writes with a sharpie on my favorite furniture.