Saturday. Michael’s just finished his last basketball game of this session. We’re headed to the grocery store for a celebratory doughnut, and coffee for me. Michael is staring thoughtfully out the window as we move along.
“Daddy?” he asks. “What’s that big tall metal thing with wires on that house?”
“Oh, that is an antenna,” I started, ready to launch into a lengthy diatribe about ham radio and the fascinating hobby that it is.
“Oh, okay! So there’s no kids at that house,” he concludes.
“Kids? What’s the antenna got to do with kids?”
“Well, that’s for seeing things on TV that kids don’t like. If you have kids then you can’t have an antenna like that because then you’d watch things that kids don’t like,” he explains, displaying a complete understanding.
“So if there’s no antenna, then they have kids there?”
“Yes, because that means they have cable and can see things like Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Phineas and Ferb and SpongeBob. Those are the things that kids like to watch.”
“What if they have that antenna and cable?”
“That would be illegal.”
“Okay. So I must forget about ever getting an antenna like that, right?”
“Maybe when I’m all grown up you can,” he suggests.
Only eleven some-odd years to go, and then I am clear to set up my antenna.