I don’t want him to grow up

I was watching The Simpson’s with my 8-year-old son for the first time. It was a little after 8 p.m. We were seated next to each other on the sofa. Tristan was snuggled up next to me, wearing loose blue and yellow Pokémon pajamas. Mel and my two daughters were out of the house, I don’t recall where. It was just the two of us.

I’m a huge Simpson’s fan. Or…