Consider a “conversation” I had with Eldest this week:
For. A. Dad. Each word, a separate dagger to the heart. Just goes to show, we often see ourselves differently than others do. In my mind, I’m eternally young and hip to the scene. Well, maybe that’s a touch hyperbolic, but I definitely don’t want to be put into a “dad box” with the concomitant jeans, bod, and who knows what else.
You have to give Eldest credit though, she realizes I’m sensitive for my demographic and bends over backwards to make amends.
So I’m “ahead of the curve in my demo” and “sometimes I know better music”. I am not too proud to accept charity.
Instead of writing her out of the will, I went full Michelle Obama and took the high road, recommending a newly discovered catchy/funny track called “Dear Winter” by AJR.
I’m compassionate for my demo, don’t you think?
Postscript: Lil’Picnic, Eldest’s improv friend, has the best nickname of all time.