Thanksgiving is the season of gratitude. A time when families gather around the table to reflect on life’s blessings: health, home, loved ones, and pie. Lots of pie.
But if you ask my three tweens what they’re thankful for, you won’t hear “my sweet, selfless mother who birthed me and makes sure I have clean socks.” Nope. You’ll hear one thing, in unison, without hesitation:
Wi-Fi.
That’s it. End of list.
I could disappear for a week, and the only time anyone would notice is if the Wi-Fi went down. In fact, the kids would probably carve me like the turkey if I ever dared to change the password.
So, in honor of their true Thanksgiving blessing, I present to you…
1. They Can Game With Friends Without Actually Having Friends Over
Jase, my sweet, quiet, random fact filled boy, will spend six hours straight in Fortnite with his buddies. I’ll peek in and ask, “Want to invite them over sometime?” and he’ll look at me like I just suggested burning his baseball cards. Why risk eye contact when you can yell into a headset from the safety of your bedroom?
Wi-Fi: the ultimate friendship glue.
Me: still the lady who tells him to take out the trash.
2. Streaming = Survival
Sadie, my dramatic, book-loving, future Oscar winner, has declared that she cannot—literally cannot—eat breakfast without Netflix. If the Wi-Fi hiccups, she collapses across the kitchen island like a Jane Austen heroine with the vapors.
“Oh my GOD, how do you expect me to LIVE like this?” she wails, as if I personally unplugged the router for sport.
Wi-Fi: sustains life.
Me: only sustains the grocery bill.
3. Instant Answers, No Parents Required
Henley, my wild animal-loving firecracker, used to ask me questions. “Why is the sky blue?” “How do birds fly?” “Do turtles yawn?”
Now she just screams “Hey Google” and ignores my perfectly good mom science answers. I could have a PhD in astrophysics, and she’d still fact-check me.
Wi-Fi: the great oracle.
Me: the backup generator they don’t bother to plug in.
4. Meme Economy
If Wi-Fi disappeared tomorrow, Sadie would shrivel up like a raisin without her constant supply of TikToks and memes. She doesn’t even laugh out loud—she just exhales sharply out her nose and shoves her phone in my face saying, “Look.”
It’s always some video of a raccoon stealing cat food or a teen lip-syncing to a dramatic soundbite. Apparently this is the pinnacle of humor. Meanwhile, I make a sarcastic joke at dinner and get told, “That’s cringe, Mom.”
Wi-Fi: comedy central.
Me: open mic night no one asked for.
5. Homework “Help”
I once naively believed my children would be thankful for me sitting beside them, helping with math homework. But no. Jase insists Khan Academy explains things “better than you do, Mom.” Ouch.
And Henley? She’ll flat out tell me, “Don’t worry, I already Googled it.”
Wi-Fi: the tutor who never loses patience.
Me: the unpaid assistant who cries into her wine.
6. Online Shopping, Tween Edition
Sadie has mastered the art of filling my Amazon cart with things she “needs”—like gel pens, moisturizer, and Squishmallows. She doesn’t hit purchase (yet), but she knows the Wi-Fi connects her dreams directly to my credit card.
Wi-Fi: Santa Claus with two-day shipping.
Me: the actual wallet.
7. Escaping Me in Style
When I suggest wholesome family bonding—like board games or raking leaves—suddenly everyone has a “very important call.” I’ll walk by Henley’s room and she’s wearing headphones, nodding like she’s negotiating world peace. Spoiler: she’s on listening to The Life of a Showgirl.
Wi-Fi: getaway car.
Me: traffic cone in their escape route.
8. Weathering the Apocalypse (a.k.a. Rainy Days)
Remember when kids used to read books or build forts during storms? Ha. Jase, Henley, and Sadie see a rainy day as Netflix-and-Snacks Olympics.
The last time the Wi-Fi went out, you’d think civilization collapsed. Jase literally groaned, “This is the worst day of my life.” Meanwhile, I’m sitting there like, “Do you know what dial-up was, son?!”
Wi-Fi: life raft.
Me: history lesson no one signed up for.
9. Social Currency
Sadie measures her worth in likes. Henley’s status is determined by Snapchat streaks. Jase lives for winning streaks on NBA 2K. None of these things would exist without Wi-Fi.
So when I ask, “Aren’t you thankful for me?” I get blank stares, followed by, “Uh, yeah, but can you restart the router?”
Wi-Fi: MVP of their lives.
Me: backup singer, still harmonizing.
Zero Reasons They’re Thankful for Me
Okay, maybe that’s dramatic. (Sadie would approve.) But sometimes it feels like I’m competing against invisible magic beams that deliver endless entertainment, knowledge, and chicken nugget delivery apps.
When I ask the kids what they’re thankful for, I dream of hearing things like:
- “Jase: Thanks, Mom, for driving me to every single practice.”
- “Henley: Thanks for letting me bring home stray animals that definitely weren’t house-trained.”
- “Sadie: Thanks for listening to my dramatic monologues about why middle school is basically a Shakespearean tragedy.”
But no. I get:
- “Thanks for the Wi-Fi password, Mom.”
The Blessing and the Curse
The truth is, I’m thankful for Wi-Fi too. It keeps them connected, entertained, learning, and (most importantly) out of my hair long enough for me to drink a cup of coffee in peace.
But still, just once, I’d like Jase to put down the controller, Henley to look up from her iPad, and Sadie to pause Netflix long enough to say, “Thanks, Mom. You’re the real MVP.”
Until then, I’ll take what I can get. Which, apparently, is keeping the Wi-Fi bill paid.
So this Thanksgiving, while the kids raise their glasses of Sprite and toast to high-speed internet, I’ll raise my own glass (of wine, obviously) and toast to surviving parenthood in the age of Wi-Fi.
Cheers.
Fry, Party of Five 