Right. There.

(scene opens up in parlor, bearing strong resemblance to a sweatshop)

Me: Alpha? I need a pen that will write on fabric.
Alpha: Where would I find that?
Me: Pen cup. Kitchen.
Alpha: (many hilarious failed attempts to produce anything resembling “fine tip” or “marker”)
Me: (exasperated) You know that nice pen that you have in your Boy Scout binder? Something like that.
Alpha: Where would I find that?
Me: Hooks along the stairs.
Alpha: (off screen) It’s not here.
Me: (stabs mouthful of pins into tomato, one at a time, mouthing curses) Hook. Stairs. Under jacket.
Alpha: (still off screen) I’m looking! It’s not here!
Me: (goes to basement stairwell. Stands on stairs. Stares at hooks.)
Alpha: Oh! I thought you meant the other hooks. (points at tiny key rack next to side door.
Me: Hooks. (points to hooks) Basement stairs. (points to stairs) Check under jackets. (removes hoodie from hook, reveals blue shoulder bag zipped organizer)
Alpha: Oh. Thanks mom. (takes organizer)
Me: You need to learn how to look for things. When the apocalypse comes, I won’t be here to help you find your survival gear.

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Mentoring

(scene opens in destroyed dining room)

Me: Alpha, I have something to talk to you about.
Alpha: Yeah?
Me: Remember the hard time you used to have in school? The yelling, the running out of the classroom?
Alpha: You’re going to tell me that Gamma is doing the same thing?
Me: Yeah. For the same reasons. She’s got some kids picking on her. I thought that maybe you could talk to her and give her some advice on how it feels and how it’ll get better and how we’re trying to help.
Alpha: Okay. (leaves)

(short time passes)

Me: (heading downstairs to cluttered basement, finds Alpha) You’re playing Xbox?
Alpha: Yeah. Where else would I be?
Me: I thought you were talking with your sister and trying to help her out by sharing some of your hard earned wisdom.
Alpha: I have to do that now?