In my head I make fun of the shows and videos my kids like. But in 20 years, this will be what their generation is nostalgic for and it will be culturally enshrined to feel as such. It doesn’t matter if I get it or approve or care.
M is out of town this weekend. Which is sweet for her - to be able to spend her birthday with sisters is awesome - I’m happy she got to make the trip.
On another, more somber note: I see everything my kids touch as a memorial to them. Scattered toys on the floor. A messy craft table with half open books and unfinished drawings. It’s like everything I see is the last thing I’ll see - or the last thing they’ll do.
This is dark, yes? But true, in a way. We don’t know the hour or moment or minute. And you won’t have fixed that volume pedal.
Listening: American Football, Beck