Dealing with adult children is worse than the original birthing process

Those of you who have adult children, listen up. I know I should stop right there because that fact alone is enough to bring you to your knees.

Only the IRS understands the pain of these non-deductible lines on your tax return, which they have been scrutinizing for years. When it happens, the Firm, as they like to refer to themselves, dubs it Sticking It to the Man Day.

And of course, the relationship will now change. You will be viewed differently by your adult children. All those thousands of issues of Parents Magazine should be replaced by stuff like Genealogy Gone Wrong and Is it Too Late to Test for Paternity.

Usually the current issues are so thick you will have to pick them up at a loading dock. The only saving grace is there is a long line at the dock, which you are comfortable with from living in this area anyway. You pack a cooler full of your favorite snacks and know enough to use the car ashtray for bathroom breaks.

But it is helpful to navigate a few common misconceptions. If you stay at the home of one of these adult children, you have to understand the current trend in decor.

For instance, the kitchen is high tech. In fact, it is so high tech, you won’t even be able to find it. The idea here is for the kids not to let anyone know they live here and prepare meals or anything else.

Everything is monochromatic, usually white lines and glass cabinets. There is a definite danger of having a seizure if you look too long at one item. And if they have Alexa, and what high-tech kitchen doesn’t, playing music that emulates the rain forest, it is especially hazardous.

I once tried to microwave a cup of water for coffee. It took me an hour to find a cup; dishes, utensils and glassware are forbidden to be displayed. After another hour, I discovered how to turn the water on. Then I gave the dogs a dishtowel scented with food to help me find the microwave, which I programmed for enough time to cook a standing rib roast for the entire neighborhood.

So, you are going to have to get used to the surroundings of a trend of things untouched by human hands. But these are minor interruptions compared with the sleep apnea that all children believe their parents carry with them. They are adamant that you wander the house at night from room to room, like some demented character in a Charles Dickens novel. They will swear the next morning that they heard chains rattling, feet shuffling, doors creaking and other noises that are not identifiable. You will notice the following night that they have put up baby safety gates and road spikes used in police car chases on the LA freeway.

Their friends, of which they have thousands, will look at you and be sure you are possessed with some alien DNA, or as they like to refer to the weekend, the Zombies have arrived. They all concur, it’s a sign of aging, and no amount of argument will talk them out of it. Let’s not bring up the fact that you walked the floor with them all night long at one point in their infant life. It doesn’t count.

The other big contention that circulates involves the dreaded thermostat. As we age, something in what’s left of our brain tells us that we are always, 24/7, freezing cold. Tiny cells formulate in your body relaying signals that confuse the gray matter into thinking you have just landed in Antarctica aboard an ice cutter.

Your children will confront you in the morning drenched in sweat and swear they have heat stroke from the results of the thermostat being set by you at a temperature that melts and fuses plutonium to make nuclear weapons. The thermostat wars will rage forever, and you again will be the subject of much gossip among their friends, which now have increased to the millions.

In their eyes, you now qualify for the unique opportunity to be one of the original humans to colonize the planet Mars. That’s about right. And high tech also.