“Mom, what is my password?”
“You already forgot it?”
Practical people would have a simple answer to this question. So would the parenting books. But in my world, nothing is simple or practical. I felt kind of empathetic about the situation because passwords drive me crazy too. They were a good idea at first, but somehow they got overly complicated. And then, every website started to require one. Is it really necessary for a password when all I want to do is to sign up to bring in juice boxes for a team? (thanks Sign-up Genius) And must kids’ games require passwords (and usernames and email addresses)? The worst has got to be the security questions. Questions like, “What is the name of your favorite teacher in elementary school?” are impossible to answer. What if I write down one teacher and then years later, remember a different one? I once worked with a customer service agent who had to prod me along with leading questions because I answered a security question wrong. More recently, I kept giving the wrong phone number to an account (which was linked to a phone number I had years ago).
So when I was asked, “Mom, what is my password?” I had to laugh. After thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding,” I helped look for it. I remembered I had written it down on a scrap of paper and shoved it in my pocketbook full of receipts, ticket stubs, and little mint wrappers. I had no clue if it remained. Thankfully, it did which made me happy that I was a packrat.
I know it’s good to teach responsibility, but we’ve all been there. I’ll never forget when my father drove 3 hours to get my teddy bear for me, and he did it without a complaint. Thank you, Dad.