“LOOK out the window!”
I don’t know how many times we’ve said this to our children in the car, and in how many different countries, but however amazing the view, it falls on deaf ears.
I’ve long since learnt that if someone pipes up, “Sheep!”, they’re not looking at a flock of fluffy animals grazing on grassy meadows outside the window. There’ll be a pixelated sheep swimming across the small screen in whatever world they happen to be inhabiting on Minecraft.
And, another thing, the vast swathes of life that took place in our BC (before children) world? No interest to them. Whatsoever.
In Florida, we drove by the apartment we used to rent when DH and I were newlyweds. “Look, boys, that’s where mummy and daddy lived before you were born!” I said, pointing excitedly at the grey-timber building, nestled in lush landscaping.
There was a flicker of interest, a brief glance out the window, with one eye still on the square-headed sheep.
Then Son1 says, nonchalantly: “C’mon, let’s go! You don’t live there anymore!”
And returns to his electronic stimulation.
If my eyebrows had risen any further, they would have shot past the atmosphere.