I have a 17-year-old son. Yes, he knows it all. Yes, he thinks I'm fossilizing before his very eyes. And yes, he has to be hounded daily to do the most basic of human necessities, like showering, shaving and putting a dish in the sink.
The floor of his room is a mine field of clothes (dirty or clean? Who knows!), used dishes, food wrappers, various electronic thingies, school papers, and sunflower seeds (because he also has a pet bird, just for added household mess fun). There are TWO trash cans in his room, yet all the trash encircles the cans....on the floor. Is this some kind of physics puzzle, I wonder? Why, for the love of God, can he not put the trash IN the cans? Is it OCD? Does he do it just to piss me off? Is he cronically lazy? Is he afraid of offending the trash somehow? I will go to my grave not knowing this answer.
This week he wore the same t-shirt two days in a row. Why, you ask? Because he can, he said. The school has red/blue days, so different classes. The people who saw him on the red day won't see him on the blue day. Follow? I was sorry I brought it up. And while it's 40 degrees in the mornings now, he still insists on wearing shorts and no jacket. Sigh.
He delights in making snarky comments about me. This is his second-favorite pastime, the first being some civilization-building historical video game where he's conquering the world with other online nerds. I cannot fault him for his sarcasm as he learned it from me. "Taught by the best," he will often say.
Friends say he'll shape up once a girl comes into the picture. Yeah, but then that brings a whole other set of issues itself. I can't go there. Not yet. For now, I'll just continue to harangue him, and he will continue to ignore me. But I am so very grateful to have a son to harass, thanking God every day for this gift that's so enriched my life. Guess I'll go load the dish washer....
