Today, I am going to tell you about little Tanner's first experience at the post office.  We are going to go waaaaayyy back to when he was 15.  Fifteen!!  How the heck did he make it fifteen years in his life without knowing how to mail something??  The first clue that he needed this lesson came when he was mailing in a rebate for a drum set he bought.  He tried to put the return address on the upper right corner, the recipient address in the middle (1 point, kudos!) and had NO IDEA where the stamp was to go.  While he is going through this little exercise, he is baffled as to what to include in the envelope and why the whole process wasn't done online.  This makes sense,  given he has grown up in a technology saturated generation.

A couple of months ago I was under the weather, but needed to mail a small package.  I was barely able to move, let alone get dressed and go to the post office.  So, I enlisted the help of Tanner, my incredibly smart yet clueless about day to day life son.  While I stayed in the car in my pajamas and "I slept on my head" hair, I asked him to go inside, use the automated postage machine, and select priority mail. Simple enough, right?  I mean, after all, kids his age understand technology and processes which involve as little human interaction as possible.  (remember, this is the kid who will text me "good night" from his bedroom upstairs.)  He thinks it's a simple enough process too.  In he goes, package in hand.  Once inside, he is waving at me asking which machine to use because there are two of them.  GASP.  Two identical machines, so I see how this is a tough decision.  After me waving some "I don't give a rat's patooty" gesture (use your imagination kids), he picks a machine.   A few minutes later he comes bolting out of the building with a perplexed look on his face.  He asks if the package contains liquids or explosives.  Are you freakin' kidding me?  Yes Tanner, I packaged my own urine with a small explosive inside that little box just for kicks.  That's exactly what I do with my time when I'm laying on the couch deathly sick.  I'm pretty sure I said something like this in a loving, supportive tone "ARE YOU SERIOUS??  REALLY TANNER?"  I think he was paranoid that somehow, he would select the wrong option and we would be added the no-fly terrorist list by his simple mistake.

Back inside he goes, confident he can complete this task.  I think we are all set, when I look out the window and see him heading back towards the car, package still in hand.  If my head hadn't hurt so bad at this point, I would have beaten it against the steering wheel.  He now wants to know if I want to add insurance, because after all, my urine & homemade explosives have so much value we must insure it.  I shake my head no and send him back in.  This time, he finally manages to get the postage on the package.  Hallelujah.  I'm one step closer to being back home and in bed.  Then he starts the frantic waving again.  Crapsicles.  He wants to know which slot to put the package in.  Now I'm pretty sure he had one of those cube toys as a child where you match up the shape to get it inside the box.  And I'm pretty sure he mastered it, figuring out that each piece will only fit in certain slots.  But somehow, this connection is not happening for him.  He's perplexed and apparently can't decipher the hieroglyphics on the signs above the slots.  Out he comes again, as I can't really communicate through the glass window any longer.  At this point, I consider going inside myself but the place has become fairly busy.  After gently explaining which slot to put the package in ("COME ON TANNER, SURELY YOU CAN FIGURE THIS OUT!! You are a flippity-floppin honor student!" is probably how it went.) he is successful.  He comes out with a huge grin on his face as if  he expects a "good dog" pat on the head and treat.  I'm pretty sure he is exhausted at this point from all of the mental work he just performed.  And I'm completely exhausted from worrying that my 15 year old son will never find his way through life once he's an adult without the assistance of  Google. 

This experience made me realize that a whole generation of kids won't know the importance of the postal system or appreciate the hand written letter that arrives in the mail from a distant friend or family member.  They are reliant on instant gratification and convenience mixed with limited human interaction. Tanner was clearly uncomfortable with this level of decision making without the assistance of Google.  Everything from banking to buying a car can virtual be done without ever speaking to a human being (heck, you can even "date" online).  Does this mean their interpersonal relationship skills are never going to full develop?  Will they know how to handle confrontation or know how to interact with store clerks, postal workers, and others who provide services?  Will they need step by step instructions when away from their electronic devices?

I'm sure every generation goes through some sort of transformation which has their parents and previous generations scratching their heads.  The microwave changed the way we cook, leaving some to wonder if we would ever know how to cook on a stove top or in the oven.  I remember when we got our first microwave, my grandpa was reluctant to eat food out of this magical box for fear of what it could do to his body.  Boxed mixes and pre-made cookie dough (or other foods for that matter) leave some of us who have never mixed up flour, baking soda, and chocolate chips for a treat.

In the end, I am glad I had this experience with Tanner.  While no one likes the "when I was kid" stories, they are important for us to hear and learn from.  To see how far we have come and how that changes us and the way we live our lives.  Maybe by the time Tanner is a parent (if that ever happens, thanks to the hefty influence of the neighbor kids he babysits) he can find an instruction manual with the help of Google to parent the child.