My child isn’t even close to her teenage years, but she already thinks I’m a colossal idiot.
Last year, when Wildling turned four, she got to participate in a ritual at her school, one in which the birthday child carries an earth and walks in a circle around a sun to symbolize turning another year older. Later, when I was telling my mother-in-law about it, Kathy asked what the sun that they used was made out of, and since I didn’t know, I asked. “Hey, Wildling,” I said, “What’s the sun made out of?” She gave me a withering look, as though she could not believe she was even related to me, said “It’s a big ball of burning gas,” and turned back to her toys.
Tonight after dinner, Wildling announced that it was ‘Dessert time!!!!” I hadn’t planned on serving anything for dessert and didn’t know what she was talking about, so I asked “What’s dessert?” And she responded by explaining the concept of dessert. Thanks, Wildling.