The guilt trip always comes at bedtime. “You’re always working. I feel like I never see you!” There are tears, too. Our daughter only just turned nine, but she already knows how to twist the knife.
Instead of “boy” or “girl,” it’s just as easy to say “child” or “kid” or “student” or “person.” It’s also just as easy to refer to someone as “they” if you don’t know their preferred pronouns. It gets easier the more you do it, too.
Sometimes I cry, thinking about how this pandemic is scarring their childhoods. They can’t play tag (no touching!) or run a lemonade stand (germs!) or crowd together in a tree fort (social distancing!).