“The TV used to hum when it turned on,” I say, and Kiddo rolls her eyes. She does it the me way, the her-dad way, the autistic way, and I kinda love that.
“It used to be — ok, this is what’s on, too,” Husband added as Kiddo pushed the home button, went to another app and we cringed, it was the one we paid for; no one had logged in on our TV. Therefor, it was mostly commercials.
“That sounds weird,” she said finally, indulging us.
“It wasn’t,” I said quickly.
Out the window it’s lovely, but if you step outside the heat is unbearable. The advertiser voice comes on, AI generated now and everything is punctuated so hard and no one breathes. The camera zooms up the nose of a boy that is not real, but he is happy, he is so happy with his super drone real digging excavator Paw Patrol whatever thing.
“We should take her camping,” I say, and I say it with her in the room, but she’s zonked out, zoned in on her show. I know the feeling; I do the same, if it’s good enough.
Husband nods.
It’s so hot these days, though. So hot stepping outside melts us, and the storms come on so quick, and the world pops up all the time in our phones telling us about this or that giant murdering band of pedos or whatever the fuck, and it is terrifying to leave without consuming something to keep us safe.
Not McDonalds, though. The pop ups warn of that, too, and jeezus, alters your DNA??
Sometimes I wonder about the adults of my childhood, the old’uns who walked to school in blazing snow uphill both ways. Maybe hills were just different, then. Weather was, after all.
I don’t know how to explain to her that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.
Right??
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