4pm

We’ve been pretty lenient with screentime during this whole mess. When you are stuck inside for two months without any real human contact, you have to turn a blind eye to a few extra games of Fortnite here and there.

Like how every morning Diana quietly recycles that wine bottle I shouldn’t have opened the night before. 

And like those extra portions of wine, there comes a time when Luca just has to dry out. Because he pissed me off royally.

Last weekend, we visited the cabin so we could be surrounded by nature, family, and roughly 4,000 chipmunks. As you recall, our cabin has terrible wifi, which makes me very happy. It makes Luca miserable. 

While the rest of America was honoring our fallen heroes by refusing to social distance, Luca spent Memorial Day weekend complaining nonstop. My urge to yell was at barely a simmer for the drive up and occasionally got to a rolling boil when he hid in our room in the dark for hours, siphoning the tiny wifi signal for his ipad. I managed to maintain my temper by laying in my hammock and drinking Michigan beers.

When we got home, Luca immediately raced to his xbox and spent the next 4 hours mainlining digital violence. We let it go because we found a fun new TV show to binge. 

Around 9, I called downstairs for Luca to get off the game. No response. I called again. No response. I finally gave him my angry dad voice and Luca came stomping up the stairs. I don’t even remember what flippant thing he said, but my urge to yell not only boiled over, but got knocked off the stove and spilled all over the floor. 

At some point during my tirade, I bellowed that there would be no screens until 4pm from this moment forward.  As I caught my breath, I heard Eli’s voice from upstairs, “Does that include me?”

Urge to yell…boiling.

Today, both boys steered clear of screens. They read. They drew. Eli put together a desk that I refused to construct. 

Luca and I spent some time together in the late afternoon. We both knew we had a little repairing to do to our relationship. So we played with Jerry and had a hilarious bike ride in a downpour. 

Luca said, “This is the most fun and the most wet I’ve ever been!”

I resisted the urge to say, “See? You don’t need screens!”

He asked me to play Jenga and we sat and laughed and spilled little blocks all over the dining room. I noticed that his eyes flicked to the clock at 3:59 and I said, “I think we can let you off early.” 

Luca raced to his xbox with a wide grin and I resisted the urge to open a bottle of wine.

Lucavision

I can never remember what we call this whole sitting at home thing. Something in place? Shelter something something? The end times?

Whatever it is, our family falls into two distinct camps:

1. Giant bouts of activity.

2. Laying on the floor, face first.

Elijah and I fall into camp 2. Luckily, my job allows me to conduct much of my business in sad sweatpants, scraggly beard and a hairstyle best described as “difficult.” I just had a full conversation with Eli in which he discussed the ins and outs of E-learning while not releasing his lips from his filthy carpet. We’re doing great.

Diana and Luca, on the other hand, are more productive than ever. Diana is engaged in her own apocalyptic movie at the wine store. She fends off hordes of thirsty Evanstonians, shuffling bleary eyed towards her, moaning, “Beeeeer…whiskyyyyyyyyy.” She’s never been busier and happier. 

Luca is also engaged in a fury of activity. He wakes before everyone and blasts through his E-learning so he can focus on his true love: building a Youtube empire. You know those videos where a dude plays a video game and then says stuff like, “LET’S GO BABY!” Yeah, they make no sense to me, either. 

Luca tapes himself playing Fortnite and then adds supers, music and voice over where he says, “LET’S GO BABY!”

He works late into the night writing the perfect quips for his videos. It’s almost too adorable for words. Take a look at this one. Be sure to check out the end battle. I’ll wait:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=om--Rd_85wA

Intense, huh? He’s my kid, but he’s also pretty good at killing other 10 year olds.

At the end of every video, he asks for people to subscribe to his channel. That’s the currency among his pals. Who has the most subscribers. They each have 28. Because there are 28 of them.

Wait. Maybe you all could subscribe! It’s like bringing your kid’s Girl Scout cookie sheet to work. I’m going to pimp my relationship with you to add to a meaningless number. 

Do it. If you love me, do it. But if you are currently lying on your floor, don’t worry about it. I totally understand.