Turning My Kids Into Farmers

Newsletter 2020-04-27

I’ve never been under so much pressure in my life. If I don’t get this newsletter done in the next twenty minutes, my kids are going to hate me for the rest of time. Okay, so maybe they’ll end up hating me regardless—I’ve got a lot of years of subpar parenting still ahead of me—but right now me finishing this email is all that stands between us and watching the next Marvel movie. My nine-year-old, Betsy, asked if we could watch all the superhero films in order, and since this quarantine has gifted us with an infinite amount of free time, there was literally no reason to say no (I should know. I tried to think of one). My kids are awkwardly hovering around me to make sure I’m actually writing and not just checking the internet for the nineteenth time in the last five minutes, which is a necessary part of doing any work on a computer. If I don’t stop messing around and actually write this email, my kids are going to put me in a nursing home where the Wi-Fi is slow and all the employees …