Hey! You! Get off of my cloud! And other tales from the family-data-sharing economy
THIS MORNING I WENT TO THE GYM, WHICH MEANS THAT sometime after I put on my running tights but before I actually broke a sweat I texted my 19-year-old son the following message: “At gym need music till 10.”
Because the sun had been up for only three hours, it’s quite possible my college-student son was still sleeping. But I didn’t want to take any chances. You see, until you experience it, you can’t really understand the unique, hair-on-fire
