Erik stares at the trapping TV for hours and hours, and yet is one of the smartest people I know. He lives in his room clicking at the control console like if he won’t move his finger fast enough he’s finished. My mom shouts as pots and pans smash onto the floor for Erik to come downstairs to do his homework, but he hears nothing. However onces my mom shouts, “Dinner’s ready!” I hear the stairs thunder as Erik violently vanishes from his room.

The ideas about basketball bounce around my dad’s head like it is the most important thing. As we watch the Brewers, I ask, “How many games are we away from winning the World Series?” or “Who do we play next?” I get the two minute delayed response of “What?” After I decide to test some things out, and ask, “When is my first basketball game for high school?” Automatically he dives into a ten minute descriptive detailed speech about my playing. Of course, my dad chooses not to hear my other questions.

My mom and I banter about school. Grades seem to be present in her mind just like basketball is in my dad’s. Math may be easy to her but is impossible to me. My grade flickers frequently, but staying in the A range. However, once the B hits hard in the gradebook it calls my mom and lets her know. I explain how improving the grade is possible: “I can do extra credit assignments and study groups,” but nothing matters to her unless that B is removed.

I am as guilty as each of them. Chores are pushed aside, going to the grocery store “never gets asked,” and finishing my hours of homework happens last minute. These conversations is why my family’s ears are the same.