Emails from the Sandwich Generation

From the August 2025 issue of Edge.

August 1

Hey, Kelsey: 

Thank you so much for reaching out. I’d love to have coffee sometime so that you can, as you put it, “learn more about my story,” while I gradually determine what you’re trying to sell.  

I also appreciate the link you shared to your scheduling portal. What a great way to show people how busy and in-demand you are. If I’m available during that 17-minute window three Tuesday’s from now, I’ll let you know.  

—BC

 

September 5 

Thanks so much for following up with that fancy video message, Kelsey. It’s flattering that someone who’s so busy would slot me into their multitasking and film a message while they’re on a treadmill. Are you selling treadmills? 

Unfortunately, after two weeks of school, there’s an inexplicable in-service day for which I have no available childcare. This led to a rigorous best-of-seven game of Rock, Paper, Scissors with my wife, and it looks like I’ll be the one who will stay home and pretend to work by responding to emails promptly while also walking around our house wondering why our children pour so many glasses of milk without drinking the glasses of milk they’ve already poured. 

Does everyone else have a full-time nanny? Are you, by any chance, selling nanny services? Could you at least give me a hint about what you’re trying to sell?   

—BC 

 

October 4  

Kelsey: 

Once again, thank you for keeping in touch. I promise I’m the kind of person who is both competent and autonomous enough to have coffee with a random stranger in the middle of a weekday. That said, I’m not sure that weekday will be this month, because my boss is getting back from a six-week vacation to the Maldives Grand Park—which folks in the office have taken to calling the “Maldives Grand Gesture,” as it’s obvious the dude is trying to save his marriage. 

Based on the office pool we started, no one thinks the Grand Gesture will work, which means he’ll be back at HQ, tearing apart every project we’ve been working on for the past two months.  

Would you happen to be selling career coaching? I might need it.   

—BC

 

November 7

Kelsey: 

So sorry for the delay!

There was an outbreak of pinworms at our children’s school, and the whole family got infected. Do NOT Google “pinworms.” Just know they’re gross and that I canceled our meeting so that you could dodge this bullet—and by “bullet,” I mean worms that nest in your intestines. 

—BC

 

December 5 

Wow, Kelsey. I admire your perseverance. Your punctuality, too, as I’ve noticed all your messages arrive at exactly 10:01 a.m. on the first Thursday of the month. You’re like a machine. Wait. Are you a machine? Are you selling AI? 

Unfortunately, I’m taking some time off to visit my parents. They want to host Christmas one last time before moving to Majestic Pastures, an assisted-living community that rivals most resorts in terms of amenities but is also, somehow, a symbol that I’ve failed as a son because I’m unable to reverse the aging process or buy them a house right next to our house. Never mind that to help them move, I’ve surrendered all my sick days for the next five years. Hope I don’t get pinworms again!

—BC

 

January 2

Kelsey: 

So sorry for the last-minute notice, but our children’s school has been canceled for the week due to reports it might be windy, rainy, and cold. 

The timing couldn’t be worse because my parents are coming down for a visit. Apparently, there was some kind of incident at Majestic Pastures, and they were issued a lifetime ban from playing shuffleboard. Mom said Dad really needs someone to talk to about it. Looks like that someone will be me. 

—BC

 

March 7

Not sure what happened, Kelsey, but my last message bounced back. It looks like you deleted your LinkedIn profile, too. 

If you have time, I could meet right now because most of the office is distracted by their March Madness brackets. 

Let me know if that works. 

—BC

 

April 4

Kelsey? Are you there? 

—BC

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