My Idiots Guide to Raising Teenagers

Yes, you are the idiot. Accept it and you will be able to move on.
If not, read the first sentence until it dawns on you that you are, this is not rocket science.

Somewhere between the age of 13 and nineteen, supreme unsurmountable knowledge is bestowed on our angels and a level of all-knowing wisdom enters them. This will be extinguished upon them turning the ripe old age of 20 when worldly realizations of rent, work and somewhere to stay cannot be answered with mantras of "like whatever" or "just take a chill pill".

You have certain responsibilities as a parent and I will list them because like me, you do not have the capability to read and think at the same time. No, my dear fellow parent, you are not gifted.
You will work long hours, sometimes have 2 jobs to try and somehow make it to the third week of the month. You will beg, steal, borrow and refrain desperately from selling what you will consider excess body organs to keep a roof over your head, food on the table and purchase school items needed over and above school fees.

Clothing, torn costs more because it looks cool, so do not try to discuss it or refer to it as damaged or second hand, It does not matter that costs a fortune or is so cheap that the item may appear stolen, if it doesn't form part of an outfit it will be shunned, unless it is so desirable that all life on the planet will cease if it is not acquired. Are you following you me so far? Good.
This applies to the male and female teenage species and now we move onto the next item on the list, hair. We need to have access to enough products to survive a holocaust and must have both straighteners and curlers, branding is of the utmost importance because you, and I quote "can like to ruin your hair and like go bald early". Correct me if I misunderstand this, the hippies from my era had amazing hair, long and unkept and washed infrequently, did I imagine this? When mentioned that I used to just wear a cap when I overslept and didn't have time for a shower in my youth, I feel that somehow I am about to be swallowed up by the hair gods and spat out in a hell where there are no brushes, comb, shampoo or conditioner.

The environment is "super" important, UNLESS it somehow affects our sense of dress, hair, music, food to mention a few. More deodorant is spent in one session than I use in a week and I have a neutral body odour. Oh and have I mentioned the rolling of the eyes, the hand over the eyes and shaking head and the proverbial open mouth dropped jaw looks that you will receive as a parent? They are merely expressions of amazement and hero-worship for some act that you have carried out to be remembered forever and discussed with their peers. "You are SO not gonna believe what my Dad did in the shopping centre yesterday!" See, pride and acknowledgement.

So dear parent, how do you cope with this alien that has been forced upon you?
You love it, feed and clothe it and don't attempt to understand it. We are all in need of unconditional love without judgement, however this doesn't not mean allowing them free reign over your world. By no means, your house so your rules and consequences for actions.

Nite All

A Walking Advertisement

We are walking advertisements and as such we all have a style, a look or an image we portray.

This includes our lifestyle and the way we wish people to see us. Some take great pride in appearance and as such do not wish to be associated with others who might cause them to be seen in a lesser light.

Others are obsessed with what they drive even to the degree that they do want to be seen in a lower "class" of vehicle.

Then you have the tree huggers a la fashionable vegans, these folk will often find difficulty telling the difference between a hot dog and a real dog even if it was flirting amorously with their leg.

This doesn't allow the carnivors the right to classify all white meat as wannabe veggies and meat on a stick as digestive toothpicks.

You are what you wear, you sell your soul to the god of Levi or Soviet, you dress up or down to tell the world, see me, love me or beware of me. A famous stripper whose stage name escapes me once said, "a monkey draped in silk and diamonds remains a monkey still".

That watch, those shoes, the fragrance makes you feel special, boosts your self esteem and allows you to live a little beyond yourself.

I have a selection of pipes, a brass Zippo and a stunning Humidor. I also have a plastic watch, old underwear and one pot and pan. I live somewhere between the naked Dad and the single chef, or something like that.

My point is this. It really doesn't matter who you are, who you want to be or what you used to be, just be happy with yourself.

Love yourself, embrace the you that you are and it will permeate to those around you.

Nite All