Way Back

It’s 7:21 on a Friday night, and I’m ready for bed.

If that isn’t enough to make me feel old, Zach’s comment tonight was.  I was preparing the boys to read Babe, The Gallant Pig, and told them that some of the language might be hard to understand because it was written a long time ago.  Zach nodded along and confirmed that he understand with, “Oh yeah. You mean like in the 20th century, right?”

Yeah, buddy, I mean like way back in the 20th century.

Way back when I didn’t have two kids, and a job, and a husband.  Way back when I had more hair follicles and fewer pounds.  Way back when I wasn’t homeschooling.  Way back when I didn’t spend all of my time driving kids to doctor’s appointments and trying to figure out which interventions best address which reading difficulties.

Way back when I wasn’t  trying in vain to explain metaphors and idioms to Zach.  After several attempts to use the phrase they had a ball in context, making clear that the they in question were having a great time, I asked Zach what he thought it meant that they were having a ball. He answered, “It was a really cool ball that lit up?”

Way back when I wasn’t trying in vain to convince Ezra that we were having a great time at the USA versus Spain soccer game last week.  We were losing three to zero, it was seven hundred degrees outside, and I had spent $42 dollars on water (and only one of those numbers is an exaggeration).  Ez was starting to melt down and I tried to refocus his attention on the only good thing I could think of at the time:

“This water is de-licious!”

“Well, it is delicious water,” Ezra agreed.  “But compared to a cheeseburger, it’s terrible.”

Ah, yes, I remember way back in the 20th century.  Way back when I wasn’t always tired.