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Sympathy for my sons

Topics/tags: Autobiographical, short

Setting: Last night. The Rebelsky living room. Son is sitting on the purple sofa [1], watching TV. Father [2] is working [3] on his computer.

Father: What are you watching?

Son: A movie.

Father watches for a few minutes.

Father: Is this that TV show with the guy who can’t die?

Son: No, it’s a movie.

Father watches for a few minutes. We’ve transitioned to a car chase through the streets of Italy. Our heroes [4] are driving a very fast lime green sports car. Every so often, the screen pauses and it says something like Number 1: The Driver or Number 6: The Millionaire.

Father: Is this one of those Fast and Furious movies?

Son: No. It’s a Netflix movie called 6 Underground.

Father goes back to work, with the TV in the background.

Father: What’s this called again?

Son: 6 Underground.

Father then goes to the other room to work [5]. Eventually, Father returns to the living room. Father has forgotten the ame of the movie, but recalls that one of the characters identified the heroes as ghosts.

Father: Are you enjoying Ghosts?

Son: It’s called 6 Underground. It’s okay.

Father goes to bed. The next day, the conversation continues.

Father: How was Six Under?

Son: 6 Underground.

Did you ever feel like you’d become part of an Internet meme?

And don’t you feel sympathy for my sons?

Postscript: While only one son participated in this conversation, I’m pretty sure that all of my sons have had experiences like this.

[1] Or maybe it’s a chaise lounge. I can never tell.

[2] That’s me.

[3] Hypothetically.

[4] I think.

[5] Or maybe to try to watch a basketball game.

Version 1.0 of 2019-12-17.