“How’s Kat?” “They’re fine.” “Who’s they? I asked about Kat.” “They’re fine.” This conversation with my eldest daughter was a millennial Abbott-and-Costello-routine gone bad. I was asking about “who” and instead was hearing about the whole infield: Who, What, I Don’t Know and I Don’t Care. I really was starting not to care myself. “Why …

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As we finished the last chorus of “Dayenu,” my wife leaned in, whispering ever so sweetly in my ear. “Check the salmon. I’m ready to serve the soup.” We had decided to grill salmon for this first night of Passover. First, it was healthier than brisket. Second, the motley group sitting at our dining room …

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(As appearing on The Today Show Parenting site) http://community.today.com/parentingteam/post/i-am-my-fathers-son My father was not your Ozzie and Harriet type of dad. Never coached a little league game. Never taught me to ride a bicycle. Didn’t take me on college tours or help with algebra homework. Didn’t wear cardigans, smoke a pipe or drink martinis. No camping, …

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(as appearing on The Washington Post Parenting site : https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/parenting/wp/2016/03/21/107-days-until-my-she-graduates-from-college-heres-why-that-numbers-significant/ As I write this, there are 107 days until my daughter graduates from college. So will nearly two million other young adults. But, for me, this number of days holds so much significance. Because it is the same number of days that my daughter spent …

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(as published in Your Teen for parents Magazine, March/April 2016 When Parenting Styles Conflict “Dad, can you drive me to Lisa’s house? Have to be there in ten.” “Sure. Let me get my keys.” As I open the garage door, thundering, urgent feet resound above my head. “Where are you going?” “I’m taking Kate to …

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Four teenage girls piled into my car, clad in their Mario Brothers matching outfits – one set of green, one set red. The ritual of Halloween parties and trick-or-treating (more of a coming together of suburban teenage texters and tweeters) now officially over, the girls with their straightened hair and braces-less shiny white teeth Snapchatted …

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When I first got my driver’s license many moons ago, I was ecstatic at the prospect of the open road. I could drive anywhere and everywhere I wanted (or as far as my gas money or my dad’s gas card would take me). Errands for my mom? No problem. Pick up five friends and stuff …

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“How was the fundraiser last night? A lot of people?” “The usual suspects. You know, the elementary school schmooze at warp speed.” “Get anything good at the silent auction? Last year, I bought a bunch of gift certificates.” “I got two tickets to a concert. My buddy Jeff yelled at me for underbidding and told …

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“You look exhausted. Everything okay?” “All good. Was up late last night. Didn’t get enough sleep.” “Lucky you. We were both out cold by 10.” “Not that. The game ended and I was about to turn off the TV when… you know… I flipped around, and it was on. Once it’s on, I have to …

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“Do you want to go over and see Elise and Rob’s new outdoor kitchen?” “What’s an outdoor kitchen?” “They built a full kitchen next to their patio. Top-of-the-line everything. So they can cook outside all summer long. And it has a built-in spit. They can roast a whole pig!” “Why would they want to do …

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Lost in Suburbia

based on the syndicated humor column by Tracy Beckerman

Snarky in the Suburbs

Middle aged, Uncool and Not Bringing Sexy Back