Weekend Column: What Do I Know?

Mar 9, 2015 by winjaw

I consider myself fairly well-educated.

I can write a complete sentence with not only a noun and verb, but can toss in an adjective if need be. Although I do have a tendency to start sentences with “And” – not that it’s grammatically wrong – but my English teachers never liked it.

I have a couple of college degrees (journalism and American history, if you care) and am a pretty voracious reader. Which, if you think about it, is pretty important in my line of work, being a journalist/editor/publisher type.

You can’t go wrong having me on your trivia team – history being my area of expertise.

So overall, I believe I can have a somewhat intelligent conversation with just about anybody on just about any topic.

And now we can just throw all that out the window. I am, apparently, rather dimwitted. I know this now because I have been informed of said dimwittedness by none other than the Eldest SON of Thunder.

This would be my first born child, and a male one at that – hence the “SON” designation. I have no idea what happened. And by “happened” I mean, where in the heck did he go? What happened to the little boy who would watch endless kid shows with me in the morning? The one who would build Thomas Tank engine train sets for hours and hours, completely covering his floor with incredible mazes of track.

The one who always said “yes sir” and “yes ma’am” and all those other civilized words. Now I have to translate Klingon grunts. To his credit, he remains quite polite to other adults, but for some reason, the Little Black Dress and I have been warped back to feudal times as peasants while Eldest rules as Master of His Universe.

Being a trained investigative reporter, I went and investigated. Terms like “puberty,” “becoming a man,” “finding his identify,” and others were bandied about.
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Truth be told, this keeps up much longer he won’t make it to adulthood and he can go find his identity in a coal mine.

I digress. My readings pretty much all agreed Eldest was at that age of 15-18 or so, when he knows everything and yours truly knows nada.

I say left, he says right. I say black, he says white. The fact (if we can call it that because all “facts” are up in the air right now) I have been on this planet more than three times longer than he is irrelevant.

There remain glimmers of hope. The other day I was in the kitchen and called out to Eldest in the next room for some help with dinner. “Yes sir, be right there” was the response.

I stopped doing whatever it was I was doing and peeked around the corner. Yes, it was him. Or at least something or someone with a similar resemblance. But you never know.

A rarity. Too often it’s debates that sometimes turn into arguments and I do not enjoy that journey or discussion.

I am told this is a phase. That he will be back sometime in the future. But, for me, I am ready for said phase to phase out.

Until next time.