When I was your age . . .

I am unsure if becoming a parent or approaching forty-years-old is to blame for my sudden disdain towards things I previously thought unimportant. For example, when I’m walking on campus and see a college student, usually male, wearing a Sesame Street tee shirt, I now roll my eyes at what society has come to. “A grown man wearing an Elmo shirt,” I mutter under my breath as I straighten my top hat and cravat. The fact that I dropped Ezra off at preschool in basically the same shirt is probably coloring my attitude, but still I see glimpses of a stodgy parent and grumpy, old man in the mirror. He's usually mumbling, "Get a haircut, whippersnapper."

Ezra and his BFF