This morning, I came downstairs and as is usually the case, my faithful beagle Kirby followed me. I believe that he follows me both out of a love, but more importantly out of a belief that I will help him find food.  Fulfilling my end of the bargain, I began searching out my 12-year-old son Jacob, who is in charge of feeding Kirby.  I believe that Kirby still involves me (the middle man) in the process, because he feels that I am the problem solver, who can resolve his dog hunger issues, no matter the circumstance.

Suspecting that Jacob was in the basement watching television or playing on his tablet, I called down the stairs, “Jacob, time to feed Kirby.” No response.  Growing a little annoyed, I shouted down again, “Jacob, time to feed Kirby!”  Again, no response.

Heading downstairs with Kirby close behind, I found Jacob on the couch engrossed in his tablet. Walking toward him, I once again said, “Jacob, time to feed Kirby.”  Strangely this time, even with a father approaching an advanced state of grumpiness, still no response.  Almost standing over him, I prepared to remind my son once again of his starving pup, when I then saw earbuds perched in my son’s head.

He had not heard a thing I had said. He was in another zone.  Another world.  A world free of annoyed fathers, hungry pets, and societal obligations.  He was checked out.  Reaching down and gently pushing his knee, he finally glanced up to see me mouth the word “Kirby!”  Yep, the exclamation even came through when reading my lips.

Getting up to feed his dog, I soon realized that I had not only entered the basement. I had entered the future.  The future of a soon-to-be-teen.  Sort of there.  Sort of somewhere else.  But definitely what I could expect for years and years to come.  [Insert sigh of a tired dad and moan of a hungry dog.]