When I was little, on the weekends, my parents would be enveloped in the newspaper. I admired how they were able to manage those huge floppy pieces of paper and noticed how carefully they kept the sections together and passed them back and forth all the while sipping their coffee. The routine was familiar and comforting.
Today my newspaper is my laptop. Every morning my boys come downstairs all mushy and sleepy and visit me at the kitchen table where I have my nose in my laptop. I pull them in for a hug before they push away and ask for their "breakfast treat." Then, I return to my computer. But my bright and shiny laptop seems to have a disturbing presence in the room. It doesn't smell good and flop around like the news paper. Instead of softly encompassing me it seems to pull me in to a lost and distracted space where my kids can't get to me.
Eventually I abandon it to give Max and Evan the attention they want. As soon as I rise, one or both of them run in and take the laptop over exploring free online games.
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