No one could say who organized the garden party. Which should have been the first red flag. It looked perfect. Too perfect. String lights glowing like they had something to prove. Drinks dressed up with herbs no one actually wanted. People laughing half a second too late. Then someone handed Marla a note. Whisk eggs until compliant. Add red beets. Do not let them see you stir. Everyone else thought it was a joke. They stopped laughing when the first person was pulled to the ground.

But culturally, we swapped a mascot of chaotic perseverance for a mascot of curated emotional intelligence. Grover says, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I will run at it repeatedly until something breaks, probably me.” Elmo says, “Let’s talk about your feelings regarding what’s happening, and then we’ll make a sticker chart.”

Carding people should be simple. Instead, it turns into a dimly lit interrogation where I can’t read the ID, everyone’s judging me, and somehow a table of college kids convinces me I was present at the signing of the Constitution.