Today I was sorting through some papers and from the comfort of my couch I dealt with a check that needed to be deposited. I have known for years that this option existed, but I've always just gone to the ATM (or sometimes to the teller inside). "Elwood," I said to the person in my household least likely to use electronic banking options, "guess what I just did? It's because I'm so hip and cool, just like the kids these days."
"Ah, yes," he said, "that's exactly what the kids these days are doing: depositing paper checks."
We laughed.
Today I got the itch to pull out my violin for the first time in a long time, and Pete wanted to talk about the tiny quarter-sized violin that lives under the music room loveseat. "It was mine when I was little," I told him. "I got it when I was four."
"Wow," he said. "So it's REALLY* OLD!"
*Pete, reading over my shoulder, disputes this recollection. He says it was "kinda old," which might be true. But I'll point out that it's entirely possible to say "kinda" in a tone that means "really."
We joked about it at dinner, how he keeps bumping up against the fact that his parents' childhoods fell in an era that feels like the distant past to him.
Tonight he was sitting on the couch next to me and he said, "I know you've been sad today, and I wish I could help. But you don't have to tell me why you're sad if you don't want to." It was a small thing I've been trying unsuccessfully to shake off all day, so I told him. He responded so kindly. He said, "When I come to you and I feel sad, you can always help me feel better. I wish I could do that for you, but I guess it just comes with age OOOHHHHH NOOOOOOO!" He went on, "I was trying to make you feel better and instead I just said you were oooooold!"
But I laughed so hard that I did wind up feeling better.
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