Max was invited to a party at which he would be the only boy. Since the primary role of parents, after buying groceries, is messing shit up, I said, “Wow, you’ll be the only boy, huh? How you feeling about that?”
Me: Are you ok being the only boy?
Me: Oh, uh, no reason. So, E. (the birthday girl) is a good friend of yours?
Max: Oh, definitely.
Me: You play together?
Max: Dad [implied by tone of voice: Dad, you’re the dumbest person ever. Who cares about the things you’re asking about?], no, of course not.
Me: But you’re going to her party, and she didn’t invite any other boys, so you must do something together
Max: It’s going to be great! We’re watching a movie and we get to eat in front of the TV! [To Max, this is absolutely the holy grail of a Big Night]
Me: But you don’t play with E.?
Max: No, of course we don’t play. She doesn’t like playing.
Me: So how are you friends?
Max: [long, patient, condescending – without meaning to be, which is even more condescending – sigh] Because. We have conversations.
Me: Oh, of course. About what?
Max: Dad, what do you think?
Me: Honestly, I have no idea, Max.
Max: What else would we talk about? Sports, dad. We talk about sports.
Tell it, Little Man.