Home Alone: Teenage Boys Are the Anti-Christ

Of all fatherhood cliches the one that I thought that I’d surely be immune from was animosity felt toward teenage boys. After all, I’m co-parenting a teenage boy and worked with countless others as a teacher and mentor. But as soon as the nurse let me hold Turtle Biscuit for the first time that fateful day in December an anti-teenage-boy hormone seemed to start mutating within me. I realized that this had fully taken over my brain when while Snuggle Biscuit and I were at the local diner one night getting some dessert and I spotted a teenage couple having (a too-damn late for my tastes) dinner in the booth across from us.

At first the boy seemed like a very nice young man–dare I say–someone I might even be proud to call a son.  Then, he did something that I will never forget, and right then and there I realized that Teenage Boys were indeed the Anti-Christ, and I in effect became a stereotypical dad with a daughter.  What sin did this young man commit you ask?  I shudder to relive the horror, but for you dear reader I will.  The young man looked her straight in the eye and said something that made the young lady smile.

Yes, I know.  The horror…..

This realization about teenage boys is only one of many things that I thought I’d never do as a parent that are starting to come to bear.  Here is an abbreviated top-3 because this list is growing by the day:

  1. Never thought I would become my parents.  But in short order my parenting style is rapidly developing into a zany blend of Claudette and Francy Lafargue tastes, habits, and sayings.  All of which I vowed as a kid to never torment my own children with…well that was a short-lived vow.
  2. I say “when I was your age.”  I still can’t believe that I do this…
  3. Stockpile snacks/Hide snacks.  It always confused me as a child why my mother would keep a stockpile of snacks while simultaneously proceeding as if these snacks were hidden and out of my reach.  Yet, whenever Snuggle Biscuit and I come back from grocery shopping, what’s the first thing that I do? I put half of them out and the other half in secret spots throughout the kitchen.  You could imagine my embarrassment a few weeks back when I noticed 7-year old biscuit pulling over a chair so he could retrieve some oreos in one of the hiding spots in the cabinets above the sink.

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