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Posts Tagged ‘parenting teens’

My Son Connor Goes Cliff Jumping

Teen Tip #1To Attain Optimal Growth

Drink a huge glass of milk (read pint) before bed.  Now stretch.  Results noticeable by morning.

Possible application for middle-aged moms?  Follow the above procedure.  It may work on that little muffin top.  Anything is possible!

Teen Tip #2–Problem Solving Ability

Forgot your keys?  Stayed out past curfew?  When the confines of your compact car become unbearable, consider climbing the roof.  Knock at your parent’s window.  They’ll be alternately concerned and disbelieving, but will be certain to invite you inside.

Possible application for middle-aged husbands?  Consider attempting the same routine at your wife’s window if you’ve had a fight with your beloved.  What woman could resist a man willing to take such a desperate risk to make amends?

Teen Tip #3–Ignore Common Sense Questions

You’re parents said it…and so have you.  “If your friends jumped off a cliff, would you?”  Live life and jump—especially on your 16th birthday!

Possible application for middle-aged parents?  Pray fervently.

All of these tips are the result of actual events and discussions.  More to follow…

 

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Old Red sat in the driveway dusted with snow.  “Mom, why is the truck here when Dad isn’t?”  Shoving the bedroom blinds aside, I stared below in disbelief.  There it was–home from the airport but without its owner.  Hmmmm….

“Benjamin Keith!”   (Picture your own mother when she was angry…her brow furrowed; words waiting to spill from her drawn mouth.)  I ran downstairs into the territory of tossed jeans, potato chip bags, and Axe cologne.  A mop of disheveled hair and one skinny, hairy leg poked out from beneath the covers.  “Ben!”  A barely perceptible, “What…” came from the pile on the bed.  “Tell me you didn’t go to the airport and take your dad’s truck.”  “Yeah, I thought I’d pick him up after my appointment today.”

Visualize a calming place…count to ten…breathe.  No.  It didn’t help.  “What were you thinking?  You didn’t have permission to go to the long-term parking garage, locate the truck, and bring it home!”  (At this point, the dialogue became monologue and I realized I can do a pretty good imitation of my mother when she’s upset.) 

“Mom, I paid for the parking fee.”  Not understanding the logic behind this statement, I shook my head in confusion.  How can I know so little as the parent of an eighteen-year-old?

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