Those Crazy Kids

Recently I was having a conversation with a group of ladies, many of whom had teenaged kids that had been left at home. I, on the other hand, couldn't get a complete thought out because my kids needed something every 5 minutes. I commented that I would be happy when my kids were able to become self sufficient to any degree. To this comment, I got the response I always get when I mention that having small children sucks the life out of me can be trying at times.

"Good luck. That never changes. My teenager still can't do anything for himself."

That set me to thinking. And mostly I think I feel sorry for people who can make this claim. I would like to take this opportunity to express my sympathy for those with toddler-like teenagers.

I'm sorry that your teenager poops his pants every time you leave the house.

I feel unspeakable sorrow when I realize that your teenager has to wear a bib at mealtime, that she spills her milk at least once a day, that the second she finishes eating, she throws her plate and demands a cookie. It must be so difficult to carry her to time-out during every meal. I can't imagine the indignity of having to wipe applesauce off of her screaming face before you have to pluck her out of her chair.

It must be terrible to have to go to a restaurant with a 16 year-old who can't sit still for five minutes and shortly after ordering starts pounding his fists on the table screaming,"I want my chicken nuggets NOW!" causing you to have to exit the restaurant with him and take laps around the building while the rest of the family eats.

I'm sorry that you can't even shop for groceries without your teenager bawling because you won't buy Oreos, causing every eye in the store to glare at you, silently demanding that you get that kid out of here now as they pass judgement on you for being a bad parent.

I don't even want to imagine what it must be like to not be able to close the door when you go to the bathroom because if you do, your high schooler will take the opportunity of being unsupervised to eat diaper rash cream, empty a bag of powdered sugar on your kitchen floor, completely undress, unlock the door and run out into the street.

How embarrassing it must be that when your child gets on the school bus without his blanket, he starts screaming,"Bwanket! I want my bwanket!" at the top of his lungs. You must get some really interesting calls from the school office.

Your child's date must be horrified when she learns that before he picked her up, you had to bathe him and scold him for having dried poop on his bum, leading to yet another conversation about proper wiping technique.

But all this pales in comparison to the pity I feel for you as I think that when your teenager is acting like a naughty toddler, they don't look nearly as cute as this.

Really, your life must be unbearable. You have my sympathies.