I NEED A BETTER WAY TO SAY THESE THINGS TO MY KIDS
INSTEAD OF READING to you at bedtime, I’m going to tweet using only words appropriate for your grade level. So follow me.
I don’t feel safe letting you have a playdate with Billy because Billy’s mom uses a Windows Phone.
OK, sweetie. Daddy’s got to hang up the phone now because he has Verizon and he can’t tweet and be on a call at the same time. Call Mommy, she has AT&T.
Your Auntie Jenny is what we call an Internet troll.
Don’t look at my laptop screen. Looking at someone’s screen is like reading from their diary. (If their diary was filled with babysitter porn.)
OK, OK. We’re not gonna have this conversation until you calm down and update to the latest iOS.
No one ever got into Harvard or Yale with only three tabs open. But it’s your life.
I know you want to play Minecraft, so here’s a compromise. You can invent Minecraft.
There, there. Shhh. Don’t be afraid of movies or monsters or robbers. There’s nothing to be scared of … other than the algorithm that will make it impossible for you to earn a living.
When Daddy says “It’s like Uber for No,” Daddy means No.
That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not just sitting here on a sunny afternoon. I’m vesting.
Don’t scream at your sister. You’re old enough to communicate your thoughts like a grown-up. Via Powerpoint.
I know you got good grades and did well in sports and remembered to make your bed. But that has nothing to do with our deal. I said I’d take you to Disneyland when you improved your personal brand.
I know I seem kind of distracted sometimes, but you kids are two of my favorite beta testers.
I can give you all the advice in the world, but in the end, you’ll be judged by your avatar.
I’d love to see your drawings, Honey. Save them to my Dropbox.
I was young once too, and I really thought there were still some things you could believe in. But then The New Yorker hired Borowitz.
I know you didn’t mean to upset me. Just re-send the Father’s Day note without the attachment.
Stop it right now goddammit. Daddy’s checking his stats.
The neighbors aren’t happy. They’re just Facebook happy.
Ok, now go run and play. Wait, take my FitBit and go run and play.
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