Listening

It was later and hotter in the July afternoon. The two dads sat on facing crates in the garage with their cold Pabst in hand. The one dad- father to a teen daughter- continued his rant, as the other dad- father to a five-year old son- listened, imagining the future.

"I just tried to give the kid something to think about. This boyfriend of hers, the longhair, they're spending every minute together. Too much. I told her, look at her mom and me- we have our own lives. It's better. Out of each other's way, right?"

The listening dad didn't interrupt his friend with any comment, just staring down at the oily concrete. He imagined his own boy grown, with girlfriend, feeling a slight shudder at the fast-forwarded thought. Too soon.

"I said to her, if you're okay pickin' each other's nose, maybe you need a new hobby besides each other. Maybe you need a little distance? But, you can't tell a teenager anything good, they don't hear it. She just kept starin' at me like I'm the crazy guy! Kids. Right?"

Listening dad finally spoke, "It's different when you're seventeen. You remember." He did. Both dads remembered, finishing their beers in silence.