More often the norm than the exception, their doors are closed now. (I can’t remember closing my door before the age of 13, so the younger one seems a bit ahead of himself.)
While their shift from we time to me time occasionally gets me down, nights gathered around the flat screen chuckling through a movie like Dumb and Dumber To serve to replenish some of that elusive togetherness.
Ironic. Staring at yet another screen. Disconnected. Yet connected through communal viewing experience.
Weekend movie nights demand so little effort. And returns on investment are tenfold. Seldom are words exchanged. Questions, at times, involving awkward or inappropriate subject matter, are answered, or postponed until they are old enough to know the answers. An unspoken bond forms in laughter and the place 120 fleeting minutes occupy in our collective memories.
An upside to their distraction and disengagement: pure, uninterrupted, weekend consumption of The New York Times… me time.