Dear future hubster

Dear future hubster, Sometimes I feel a quiet relief that you're not around. Not because I want the entire pizza for myself, or because I don't want questioning looks when I'm watching any given episode of Game of Thrones 3+ times.  Rather when times, the universe, the stars, throw an opportunity at me which means packing and moving again. In those moments I am relieved that I don't have to ask you to do it again. That I don't have to ask you to put me first, even if we discussed it, even if I knew you told me it was my turn. That I don't have to think that I'm uprooting you yet again, that I don't have to expect you to start over new because of me.  That I don't have to wonder whether you would say "this time no". 

Dear future hubster, I hope you do realize that there is a chance that you will one day become a grandfather, if all goes well.  By then, I'm sure you will know well enough that it's no easy task in my family. Big shoes to fill, so to say. You will follow the footsteps of grandpas who, way ahead of their time, taught their grandchildren important things in an inclusive environment, with differentiated and adapted teaching methods, gender-neutrally, patiently, lovingly. Girls could learn how to get on a motorbike at an early age, boys could learn how to make pogácsa. Tell the carrots from the weeds. Remember all European capitals (it was a little easier at the time. See also: Soviet Union, Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia.). That they don't need to know everything to solve crosswords, just to know where to find the information. To stay within budget, and choose the daily (one!) ice cream from the bottom row. That Grandma is always right, and that they need to finish their pl...