As a rule, I think you should understand what something is before you commit to looking after it for the rest of its life. For example, last year the youngest wanted a pet so I bought him a Roborovski Hamster. On the misapprehension that anything with ‘hamster’ in its name would do the job. Turned out it's too fast to handle and sleeps all day. And keeps the rest of us awake all night by spinning its wheel at an rpm that would put a supercharged V8 to shame. In short, it’s very bad at being a pet. But that’s not its fault. Because, it’s excellent at being a Roborovski Hamster. And what more can you ask of any rodent - or anybody for that matter - than being itself, well. Undoubtedly the fault was mine.
And it looks like I’ve never understood my children either. Because an article in the paper has just told me what they actually are. Turns out we’re not the same species, which accounts for a lot. They’re something called Centennials; 21st century super beings descended from late breeding Generation X’ers (like us) and our beloved successors, the Millennials.
Who have had their day it would seem. Fine by me, never liked them anyway. Moping around with their suspicious-looking tubs of homemade super juice. Nibbling bird seed and whinging on about terrorism and not being able to buy a house.
Anyway, now they’ve got something else to worry about. They’re about to be outclassed by Centennials, and I’ve got two of them.
Who have had their day it would seem. Fine by me, never liked them anyway. Moping around with their suspicious-looking tubs of homemade super juice. Nibbling bird seed and whinging on about terrorism and not being able to buy a house.
Anyway, now they’ve got something else to worry about. They’re about to be outclassed by Centennials, and I’ve got two of them.
