We stopped at the Qdoba in Moorhead, Minnesota. For a quick bite to eat. Another family was eating lunch, a few tables away from ours. ‘There’s the future’ I told the professor, nodding my head in their direction.
There were six people at their table. Parents in their late forties, possibly early fifties. And four boy children ranging in age from 10 to 20 (I’m guessing). Sitting around, eating burritos and talking. Well, the youngest boy was deeply engrossed in a handheld video game.
The parents were not cutting tacos into bite-size pieces; they weren’t trying to coerce little lads to eat ‘just a couple of bites.’ And they didn’t get up in the middle of lunch to go change two people’s diapers on the bathroom’s highly sanitary Koala changing pad.
After a while the four boys got up and left the eatery. They got into a Pontiac Bonneville and drove away, leaving their parents sitting alone at the table.
I can’t say I’m anxiously awaiting that day.