I didn’t know that until I picked my son up.
“How was the Minecrafting?”
“We didn’t have time to play.”
I was thrilled, assuming that the lads had been out poking around in the nearby creek, messing with Nature, getting real, not virtual, dirt under their nails. I glanced at his too clean hands and raised my eyebrows.
“Naw, his mom won some kind of concert thing and we had to go to downtown.”
“You mean the big Pepsi Nico and Vince pop-up concert and meet the Buffalo Bills thing…?”
“Yeah,” his finger slipping over the screen of his phone.
“Oh my gosh! That is so exciting! How was it? Why are you back so soon? I thought it was just about starting now….”
“Oh, we just met them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there were those football player guys just standing there and we went up to them….”
“Well, I asked them if they knew how dangerous football was and how there was a huge possibility that they would end up with some mental impairment because of repeated concussions. You know, that makes them prime candidates for sub-dural hemotoma.”
“Yeah, I know.” My father’s medical jargon had taken root in my son. “Hey, and how was the music?”
“Those guys? They were just hanging out, so I asked them if they had any other songs or if it was just that one song that was popular. I don’t think there is great job security in their field.”
“You’re probably right, but if they play their cards right, they can sock away the money they make from that one hit.”
“Hm. Still, not very smart for any of them. Like what are they going to do with the rest of their lives?!”