Uncool

January 15, 2026

Your house is your home, right?

It’s the place where you can just be.

Safe. Warm. Cozy.

The place where, if you’re anything like me, you walk past a pile of stuff and think,

I should really put that away, and then don’t.

Mine is all of those things.

It’s also one of the favorite hangout spots for seventeen- and eighteen-year-old boys.

Jack is very social. He loves having friends over. They film episodes of his very popular TikTok cooking show. He’s taught his friends how to play Monopoly and D&D. Sometimes they watch movies.

None of this is usually a big deal.

I’m busy. I have things to do.

I mostly coexist in the background, minding my business.

But recently, he came home while I was hunkered down on the couch in the living room, deep in concentration, trying to figure out a new crochet pattern.

“Mom, I’m home,” he said, “and I brought friends.”

“Oh cool,” I said. “Welcome home. What are you guys going to do?”

“We’re going to watch anime.”

I nodded and smiled, assuming they’d watch it in the family room, and went back to crocheting.

Except… they just stood there.

Waiting.

Finally, I asked Jack where they wanted to watch the show.

He gestured to the room I was sitting in.

“Oh,” I said. “Does that mean you want me to move?”

“Yes, please,” he said.

So I moved.

Apparently, I am now too uncool to exist in my own living room.

Too crochet-forward.

Too cozy.

Too mom.

Rude.