A Teenager’s Whine

Wait 'til your father gets home!

A friend recently mentioned that one of his teenagers told him that he was boring.

This set me to thinking about some things that teenagers may not be picking up on as regards parents.

I once again know the following will never be read by teenagers, but it might give a few parents out there some relief by knowing that "someone, somewhere" understands.

Okay. Short lesson for teenagers follows. Here’s why your parents are "boring."

You may have noticed their absence during the day. Monday through Friday, they do something called work. For reasons mostly having to do with you, taxes, and current trends in prices on just about everything, they expect to be doing it for years to come.

Work is how they pay for the house you live in, the car you drive, the food you eat, the clothes you wear, and the tickets you need to see the whatever concert it is that you "have to see" this weekend. I won’t even mention the overages on your cell phone plans and late fees on movie rentals.

Work is usually from 8 a.m. until 5 p.m. Monday through Friday. Because of traffic, add an hour each way for the commute. This means that they get up at about 6 a.m. to dress and eat. They get home at about 6 p.m. if everything goes well. That’s not always likely, so, several times a week, expect them to be late. Once in a while, something at work acquires the label "Important Project" and, because of this, they get to work on Saturday. No, they can’t skip it.

They work for someone known as "The Boss." By the way, do you think your teachers are tough? Do they make you do things that seem pointless? Do you think they don’t understand how tired you are or that you’re having a rough time because Tiffany just dumped Chad and you’re stressed about what Chad might do? Wait a few years. Then you’ll get to meet some of the bosses out there.

To prepare for this, you should know that there are bosses who’d make Attila the Hun curl up into the fetal position and blubber. Then that boss would fire Attila for wasting company time crying.

So, after work, your parents get home. Unless they enjoy endless tuna sandwiches or frozen pizza from a cardboard box, they get to make dinner. As they start cooking, they wonder "Are those the same dishes that were in the sink last night? Didn’t we ask someone to put them in the dishwasher and, by use of incalculable reserves of energy and unimaginable physical dexterity, push the ‘On’ button?"

Time for the "dish fairy" to put in an appearance, sweep the house for glasses and plates, and do them. That way everyone has something to eat from.

They serve dinner.

"This again? You know I don’t like casserole (meat loaf, stew, soup, chops, ribs, goulash, fish, rice, beans, carrots, peas, potatoes, salad, etc.) Why do we always have this? Can’t you guys ever make anything else?"

They finish dinner and clear the table. They put the dishes in the sink. With a sense of futility, they ask: "Would someone do the dishes tomorrow while we’re at work?"

As they finally settle into the den, they hear a voice saying, "I don't have any clean clothes for school tomorrow."

They respond: "Why don’t you pull some from that humongous pile in your room and put them in the washer? When they’re done, transfer them to the dryer, dry them, take them out, fold them, and put them away."

They hear the sound of doors slamming.

They go to bed in order to rest up for another day. Then comes the weekend.

That’s when they wash the car, buy groceries, clean the house, cut the grass, fix leaky faucets, return movies to the video store, go to church and, occasionally, buy the first new shirt or skirt they’ve had in a year.

On Sunday night, they drift into sleep knowing tomorrow is Monday and the cycle starts all over again.

It may seem boring to you but it sure looks more like busy to them.

They can’t dodge any of it and the good ones don’t even try.

The funny thing is that, in the end, most of them love doing it (but won’t admit it) and will actually look back on it fondly.

That is, if they’re not arrested for boiling you in oil first.

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