Your teenage son comes knocking on your door.
He looks embarrassed by something he didn't even say yet.
You say, "What is it?" trying not to say, "SPIT IT OUT DAMN KID."
He asks:
"How do you know when you're in love?"
I took a sec to wrap my head around why I was getting bombarded by these bizarre queries. But then, there he was, my offspring, cruising through life in the fast lane to cluelessness. Chip off the old block, they say.
So, I stood there, pondering whether to throw him a bone of amusement or channel my inner philosopher for kicks. And then, with a perfectly straight face, I laid it down, "Can't predict when you'll fall, kid," pausing like I was about to drop some ancient wisdom. "But you sure can tell when you've landed," I added, feeling like a wise sage of romance novels.
Of course, he counters with his brilliant take on things, "What should I even know? Mom and I just had a little accident, and boom, you popped up." I shot back with a playful tone, imagining the look on her face if she ever caught wind of this convo. Yeah, couch-surfing for sure tonight.