More the “mess with my kid and I will rip your head off your shoulders” kind.
I did the only reasonable thing I could think of: I sent my friend Sue a text.
She (being a good friend) replied immediately: You have Empty Nest Syndrome.
She and I have the same medical degree—we’re equipped to dispense chicken soup, apply Band-Aids, and kiss boo-boos.
I checked with My Friend the Internet (MFtI).
Me: Tell me about Empty Nest Syndrome.
MFtI: You have it.
Me: Sue told you to say that.
MFtI: Well, yeah. But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.
Me: I don’t have empty nest syndrome.
MFtI: You miss your kids.
Me: Of course. Proves nothing.
MFtI: You want more small furry animals.
Me: Still proves nothing.
MFtI: You’re eating a lot of chocolate.
Me: Am not.
MFtI: Yeah, I made that part up.
Me: You’re the internet. You’re not supposed to make stuff up.
MFtI: You’re kidding, right?
I texted Sue.
Actual text: The Internet agrees with you. I don’t.
Actual text reply: I don’t make the rules.
We need to fix that. I’m pretty sure a world run with her rules would be far more entertaining…
It’s a good thing you are coming home for turkey. I need a hug.