Sunrise, Sunset

"One minute kids are asking for a ball and the next for a mobile phone. Kids grow up too fast and so do their requests!"

--Email pitch I just received

Henry: Mom, where's my ball?

Me: I think it's in the--

Henry: Wait! Wait a goddamn minute!

Me: Excuse me?

Henry: I need a fucking phone, is what!

Me: I really don't think that kind of language is--

Henry: Not just any phone, either. I need one of those smartphones so I can start texting!

Me: Who are you going to be--

Henry: No, SEXTING!

Me: Do you even know what--

Henry: On second thought, that seems awfully immature.

Me: Well, I'm glad you--

Henry: What I really need is a car.

Me: Would you please stop interr--

Henry: Nothing flashy. Something sensible, with good mileage. Plus room for the kids.

Me: Wait, what kids are you--

Henry: Goddamn it, Mom, sorry, I'm getting a call. Hold on. Sorry.

Me: That's not a phone. You're just holding your hand to your--

Henry [into his hand]: CHRIST, I forgot about that conference call. I'll be right in. I said I forgot! Don't put so much on my plate, if you don't want me to--okay. No, it's okay. I'll be right in.

Me: Where do you think you're--

Henry: Mom, I'm sorry, I have to run. Before I go, do you have a retirement plan anywhere around here?

Me: Again, if you'd just stop interrupt--

Henry: It's all right, never mind, I'll get one myself. If you have some extra Lipitor lying around, though, I'd take that.

Me: I don't think--

Henry: Kisses, Mom. Best to Dad. See you at the next whatever.

[He leaves.]

Me: Wait! I found your ball!