Summer Siesta

When my boys get home from camp or our adventures in the city they are hot and tired and a little sick of each other, and of me. All they want are their screens. Left to their own devices, so to speak, they don’t talk to me, to each other, to their dad when he arrives home and says hello. They are hypnotized. I felt the irony of limiting their tablet time while I hid in the kitchen or sneaked into the bathroom to scroll through Instagram or check Facebook for the umpteenth time that day. Clearly we all have a problem. And we are not alone.

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