Meet Bob & Kai

Bob speaking. I've been in this head since day one, and I remember everything. I remember the presentation where your voice cracked in the middle of one word and went up three notes, like a squeaky door. I remember when you laughed at a joke you didn't understand, and then someone asked, "Wait, why is that funny?" I remember when you went in for a big high five, and they didn't see you. You just stood there with your hand in the air, like you were asking a very quiet question. I have all of it on file. Nothing gets past me.

So when I say we're not ready, believe me. I am never wrong about what happens next. Never. Well. Except that time with the science fair. And the times tables. And, if we're being honest, most of last week.

Perfect memory. Zero forecasting ability. That’s the deal.

Kai here. For most of seventh grade I assumed Bob was me. He sounds like me. He uses my words. When he said I’d be fine, I believed him, and then I sat down in front of a test that clearly disagreed.

Here’s what changed: I stopped asking Bob how ready I felt and started checking whether I could actually do the thing. Turns out feeling ready and being ready are different sports.

You don’t have to silence Bob. You just have to fact-check him.