It’s midnight. A new day has begun. Only this isn’t any ordinary day. This is the day your son turns into a TEENAGER and so the metamorphosis begins..
Within the next few hours he will lose the power of speech and most likely the use of his arms and legs. However, he will retain the ability to eat, sleep and game. The next few years will test your sanity to its LIMIT so strap yourselves in for a bumpy ride but take comfort in the thought that one day he may have teenagers of his own..
The fear of washing and bathing. Note, this fear miraculously disappears when girls are no longer considered repulsive.
The teenage brain isn’t developed fully – especially the part that deals with consequence which is why they act like morons occasionally. It’s biological.
Is what you’ll be by the time they’re 18.
Tip: Alcohol helps.
Often used in lieu of a bath.
Once you were the center of his world. Then puberty called and now you are an utter embarrassment to him. Isn’t it time you were in a home, you geriatric old git?
Teenage boys are bottomless pits when it comes to food consumption. They will eat you out of house and home and still complain you’re starving them to death. Good news! When they invite you to their house (Christmas 2053) to sit on a crappy old deckchair with more cobwebs on it than your reproductive bits, you can get your revenge by wolfing down their Quality Street, drinking all their booze and anesthetizing them with your sprout-fueled farts. Karma, no?
The power of speech is temporarily lost at the onset of puberty and replaced with grunts. Texting by way of communication is an option, but expect to receive one word answers to your 5000 word epic. Forget ‘kisses’. Those days are gone for the foreseeable, if not forever. However, you are guaranteed one on your embalmed forehead when you’re laid out in the chapel of rest.
The reason your little prince turns into an argumentative sod.
I want. I need. I can’t.
The teenager’s world revolves around themselves. It’s biological.
The period they presume you to be from because you are in your thirties or forties.
‘OMG you’re THIRTY? That’s like SO OLD! YOU REPULSE ME! SOMEBODY ADOPT ME?’
Teenagers know EVERYTHING. You can die now.
You give them life and you ruin their life by asking the impossible of them, like putting the bin out.
Popular food of choice and possible first job (not counting paper round) which may or may not lead to a managerial position within the first day.
Or other gaming console. Your teen must be plugged into this machine for at least eight hours a day to maintain their vital signs.
An oversized babygro which some teenage boys like to lounge around in while watching programmes about big-breasted vampires.
Bedroom. Derived from cesspit, as in, an underground hole that stinks. Enter at your own risk, preferably wearing full bio-hazard suit.
A 1950s hairdo that’s seen a bit of a revival. The teenage boy either can’t be arsed faffing around with his barnet OR or he has the entire range of products in Superdrug’s hair section at his disposal and goes out looking like Justin Bieber.
Elvis, Morrissey and my Dad all rocked the quiff, though not necessarily at the same time.
Teenagers tend to go through a manners malfunction stage and like to mutter expletives under their breath which bat-eared mothers NEVER fail to hear. I once told mine to sod off. I was upstairs, she was in the next town. She heard me.
Even the laziest of teenagers can shift faster than a greyhound out of a trap when threatened with the confiscation of their games console.
Teenagers can rack up more hours asleep than a sloth if given the chance. It’s biological.
The young teenage male will happily wear the same pair of pants for a
week month. Parental intervention (nagging) is essential during this phase to maintain their hygiene and your sanity.
Teenagers + alcohol = projectile vomit + stolen traffic cones
‘WHY WAS I EVEN BORN!!!!’
A phrase often used by teens when asked to wash up when they are trying to rid the world of zombies.
Starts off with the undies section in your catalogue. Before you know it they’re going blind staring at heaving bosoms on the internet. Once the bed-sheets begin self-starching you know your little prince is gone forever. Weep for innocence lost then dry your eyes and get them to strip their own beds. *shudders*
An uncultured arse-biscuit who hangs around outside Co-ops laughing at pensioners and trying to impress girls. This is the type of teen who goes on Jeremy Kyle for a paternity test and a free bargain bucket meal. If your son ever turns up with one of these creatures in tow (or, worse, becomes one) write him out of the will and rent out his room.
Sods Law (or Karma) says that teenage lads will suffer an outbreak of pus-ridden zits when they least want them, like on a date with Courtney (who drops the u and the y and adds an e) from up the road and that’s not all she drops if you get my drift? One word, people.
‘What’s that, Dear? You’ve run out of Clearasil and Lynx?’
‘Oh my God! How did that happen?’
DISCLAIMER: This post is based on my own experiences as a mother, sister and observer with poetic license thrown in. Obviously, not all teenage boys are into girls, gaming or big-breasted vampires.
Images Via Creative Commons