The Boy and I are doing some birthday shopping Saturday morning when I’m asked to explain — again — that any money The Boy’s stuff makes at the yard sale this next weekend (PLEASE COME BUY SOME OF MY SHIT!), he can keep to buy new junk that he’ll never use.

The Boy: Awesome!  I have my first job ever next weekend.

Me: Well, yeah.  You kinda do.

The Boy: And I don’t even have to be there!

Me: Well, okay, yeah.

The Boy: I’ll be making money, even though I’m sick!!

Me: Sick?  What do you mean, sick?

The Boy: Yeah!  I got the summer fever, Sarah!