My fifteen-year-old son has the driest wit. We’ve been watching the Olympics, where, of course, there are often athletes competing that are close to his age. Here’s our conversation from the other day:
“Mom, you squashed my Olympic dream,” he said.
“I did what?”
“You squashed my Olympic dream.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
He shook his head slowly. “You wouldn’t buy me a ping-pong table or a badminton set. Now I’ll never win a gold medal.”
We have laughed about that for days now.