If only I could tune out the people who live at my house this well

I have a weird super power that I‘d like to share – it has to do with commercials.  Generally, I have several books going at once, plus several magazines and some newspapers to read during the unasked for overly loud advertisements that intrude into your home from the television. Occasionally, which will be nearly impossible for those of you who know me well to believe, I don’t feel like reading.  So when a commercial interruption occurs, I will jump right up and perform some needed chore that belongs to my kids but they haven’t done it so I have to go do it.  There are times when I’m very tired after a long day at Bank of No Forks that even a commercial will not drive me from my chair and that’s when the super power begins . . .

I can sit in front of the TV and transport my mind to another place and time and not hear one word of commercial.  Not one word I tell you.  Nada.  Not whom the advertiser was, not what they were selling, nothing.

This upsets the boy who lives at my house like you would not believe.  For some absurd reason, he wants to talk about the commercials.  He wants to talk about them like they are a small movie that he was privileged enough to see.  I can’t talk about something I’ve never actually seen – I wish all commercials would go away and have told him this.

He told me, like only a fourteen year old can when addressing his elderly, out-of-the-loop mother that commercials are there so that the advertisers can sell things and I’m SUPPOSED to watch them.  Honest to Zeus, he said this to me as if I didn’t get the point.  

Me: We didn’t have commercials when I was a kid.

Boy:  Really?  How did you know what you wanted to buy?

Me: We didn’t.  We went around not buying things.  You really need to try that.

Boy: Are you messing with me?

Me: Nope, now be quiet, the shows coming back on.

Now when one of his favorite interruptions comes on, he tells me to watch and pay attention.  But I can’t.  My mind immediately begins to wander to important stuff, like what snacks might be in the kitchen that my children haven’t gobbled up yet. 

I try, I really do, but one cannot deny one’s super powers.

We’ve discussed super powers before. The one’s we actually have, not the ones we’re too immature to use responsibly. Amylynn can sleep anywhere, at any time. Ava can ignore obnoxious television. Kelli can name bugs. What you got going on?