Once upon a time, my kids could sit through an entire movie without moving. It was a magical era when they would curl up on the couch, eyes glued to the screen, barely blinking. I could have set off fireworks in the kitchen, and they would not have noticed. But those days are gone. Now, trying to watch a movie with my teenagers is like herding caffeinated squirrels.
We sit down, popcorn ready, lights dimmed, and within five minutes, one of them is up for a snack. Not because they are hungry, but because “movies require snacks.” Never mind the full bowl of popcorn they demanded five minutes earlier. They return just in time to ask, “Wait, what happened?” I pause. I explain. We press play.
Ten minutes later, the other one suddenly remembers they need to send a text. Apparently, it is urgent. Someone in their group chat just asked what they think about a completely irrelevant topic. They assure me they are still paying attention. They are not.
Halfway through the movie, one of them declares they need a break. “A break from what?” I ask. They have not done anything but shift positions every three minutes. The other one suggests we just watch half the movie now and finish the rest tomorrow. As if movies are a two-part homework assignment.
By the time we reach the climax, they are scrolling through their phones, occasionally glancing up and pretending to care. I give up. The credits roll, and they turn to me and say, “That was pretty good. What should we watch next?”
Next? NEXT? We barely watched this one! I love my kids, but their attention span makes a goldfish look like a scholar.
