Over the course of my life, I’ve spent a LOT of time solving puzzles in Legend of Zelda games. As a parent, all of those finely-honed skills are both paying off and being put to their ultimate test.
Tonight for instance, Miles was in what can delicately be described as “a mood.” He started out making rapid-fire demands (“I want juice!”, “I want Mickey Mouse!”, etc), becoming agitated as we failed to meet every request immediately. As he spiraled deeper into anger and frustration, his outbursts became increasingly incoherent and inconsistent.
As he sat on the couch, wailing over a cup that had been placed on the table in the incorrect spot, I rubbed my forehead. “Miles,” I said, “you are the worst roommate I’ve ever had.”
Our goal was simply to get Miles to go to bed, but the final, outrageous combination of requests that needed to be met before he would climb into bed quietly was absolutely staggering. As he finally sat on his pillow, his covers coming just up to his waist, sipping juicy-water from his green cup, track marks from dried tears streaking down his cheeks, I sighed. “Oh, was THAT the right goddamn combination??”
In between gulps, and without removing the cup from his lips, Miles said, “Yeah.”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 