So, I am past the first flush of youth. I started going grey (if you're an American, then gray) back in mid twenties, and the life events of two children in a year (known as "Irish twins" over here), and a company in trouble with all the ensuing money problems means that I am not sure I have a brown hair left on my head. I need to look on the bright side: I still have hair on my head.
It's an odd thing, getting older. I know that most users here will be younger than me, probably by a decade or two. Maybe even three. Jesus. Three. Makes me feel like I should just give up and get the zimmer frame out.
I don't have a zimmer frame!
Yet.
A part of piling on the years is trying to walk the tightrope between keeping up with modern language and aphorisms, and looking like a middle-aged man having a mid-life crisis. No-one wants to be that guy. There comes a time when you have to realise that you simply can't communicate with da kidz (see what I mean - that's just embarrassing) on their level.
I learned this a little while ago.
My daughter (12, looks 16, veers wildly between being a little girl and a grown up. I can tell you which one I prefer. It isn't the second one.) wondered into the living room and asked the perfectly innocent question:
What are we going to do tonight?
Grey dad replies, thinking he is answering in fashion that she will appreciate:
I thought we would Netflix and chill. Your brother's at a friend's, so you can go in the middle between me and your mother on the sofa.
The look on my daughter's face is one that I will never forget.
How was I supposed to know it is a euphemism for having sex?
I reckon these things are deliberately set up to make people like me look stupid.
I suppose I should be grateful she didn't ring childline.