In the house we gravitate to our own space:
I binge on reality TV in the basement,
my spouse scrolls through Facebook on the first floor,
our son games on the second. Our daughter
invites us to leave the house for her private phone call.
The cats snooze on the porch.

On our son’s birthday the family goes out together.
“Glad we could get you something nice!”
I say, as we exit the bicycle shop. Without missing a beat,
he replies, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful,
but you really need to buy me a car.”