“Everyone else’s mom woke them at 4 am!” That is what my son just screamed at me.
Apparently, around the world, this morning, at 4 a.m., mothers all over America, we're waking up their sleeping children for the Fortnite update.
“That can't be right,” I said.
“Yes!” He screamed. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because it’s your first day of school. Among four thousand other reasons.”
He continued to roam around the house, like a raving Hamlet, unable to reason with his fate.
“You are the only mom,” he said, foaming at the mouth, “who doesn't understand how important Fornite is.”
“That can’t be right,” I say again.
“It’s true. All the other moms care about how important Fortnite is to their kids.”
I call his bluff. “Which moms?”
“All of them!”
“I need names,” I say. “I’m calling these women. It sounds like they need some support.”
He storms off, picks up a skull and howls “To wake or not to wake. That is the update.”
I imagine all of these women, setting their phones to wake up at 4 a.m., in order to turn on their children’s XBoxes, to update the new Fortnite. It’s horrifying. I thought the world was in trouble before, but now, I might just throw in the towel.
“I can’t wake you at 4, honey. Even if I wanted to.”
“Because 4 a.m. is my hate myself time.”
“Cause 4 a.m. is the time of day I ponder all my regrets.”
“Can’t you do it another time?”
“I’m like a machine. That’s what happens at 4 a.m.”
He’s calmer now. As usual, my own insanity quelled him. Take that Hamlet. Meet Ophelia.
“Well, next time there is an update,” he asks. “Can I wake up at 4 a.m.?”
“Can you make sure I’m awake?”
Forget Hamlet. There’s a hole in the bucket, dear Lizza.