You can read David Brooks to my kids, I don't even care. *I* want to apologize to *you.* Photo credit: Shutterstock

I Regret My "OK Boomer" Comments, Can You Still Babysit On Saturday?

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My blood sugar must have been low when I climbed upon a mountain top recently and snarked "OK BOOMER" at you, your friends, and the hardworking generation who gave millennials and Gen Xers their inheritance (Jim Collins; non-iron slacks; T-bonds) on this green Earth and who have merely been trying to offer advice. I am truly sorry for the ageist outburst, also are you still available to babysit the grandkids on Saturday?

I have already thrown away the "OK boomer" t-shirt I purchased in a momentary lapse of judgement from a Gen X-owned e-commerce site (and acknowledge the commercialism inherent to my generation as the reason we don't all own houses with two-car garages) — while I have you, I wanted to make sure you have the list of clothes Emmy needs from Mini Boden for fall — there are two different kinds of unicorn leggings, I want to make sure you're ordering the right ones in a 6T, not a 5T, please let me know you are getting this message, it's the least you can do as someone with your read receipts permanently turned on.

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, as I learned from your desk calendar of 'notable quotes' as a latchkey child.

Listen Mom, things are undoubtedly more complicated than Lauren Duca has led me to believe — I see that now. It is also true that while the tax and workplace policies that benefit you as a shareholder are very, very bad for me, if you were to die tomorrow, the kids and I would presumably benefit greatly from the wealth you have amassed as a member of the generation that actually got to have wage growth and housing appreciation, and also job stability and benefits. Who is to know which generation is the most to blame for current conditions? The only thing we can all truly agree on is that it was tacky of me to post 14 back-to-back "OK Boomer" memes in my Instagram, which you follow only to enjoy pictures of Emmy and Jackson, the apples of your eye. On which note, school pictures are coming up, and you are totally welcome to come over and do their hair and put them in the fancy clothes of your choosing (Janie & Jack, I don't even care!) that day, because actually it turns out I have a big presentation at work and shoot — any chance you can drive them to school, given you were able to retire at 61 and I will be working the gig economy until at least my third hip replacement?

Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, as I learned from your desk calendar of "notable quotes" as a latchkey child growing up in an era of economic expansion, so I promise herein not to use it anymore — not on Instagram, not on Twitter, not on Facebook JKJKJK only boomers use Facebook. :) Instead, I am going to focus on being grateful for what I have: four loving boomer grandparents who can help pay for swim classes while arguing with me about whether cows or cars are worse for the atmosphere (they're both bad, Dad). Love you.