Diary Entry from a Junior High Dad

Dear Diary,

Junior high sucks so far. First of all, why do the hallways of the school smell like teen spirit, angst, armpit, elbows and toes, and Axe? Every time I walk into a junior high school, I wonder how the custodians are going to clear the building of that smell. Do they open all of the doors and windows to the school for an hour before school starts and for an hour after school ends?

Nope. That odor is in the paint. Yup, definitely in the paint.

Like seriously, what is going on here?! First of all, my loving, innocent child is now doing everything to not noticeably be my child.

Attitude

She rolls her eyes at me;

she sucks her teeth at me;

she is constantly mumbling under her breath after I tell her to do the smallest task;

and, she has become a parenting guru — often stating how other parents “do not treat their children this way.”

This child is literally walking around my house as if I don’t pay for shit – like I am not her lifeline – like I am only her landlord, and she is my tenant. She barely looks up at her phone when discussing anything with us.

Cell Phone

Yes, the phone: The social connection with the virtual outside world that is ironically keeping her from physically connecting with the actual outside world. It is like pulling teeth to get her to part with that thing.

When an actual person talks to her, like, I don’t know, her mother and me; she stays fixated on the phone, smiling. The only time I get a response is when she looks up at me — usually with a scowl.

Screw it, she should move out. That will show her.

Shit. That is illegal.

Wait. Is it?

Chores

The chores are always half-assed completed. For example:

“Hey, can you put this in the garbage in the kitchen for me?”

(looks up from her phone, the one I pay for, sucks teeth) “Fine. Whatever.”

“Hey, thanks.”

(inaudible mumble)

Where do I find that item that was supposed to be in the garbage? Oh look, it is on the damn counter!

Next to the garbage can.

She’s trying to kill me.

Yup, that’s it. She is trying to kill me. She wants my blood pressure to go through the roof. She is trying to make me have a cardiac arrest. That has to be it – because there is no viable reason why she would be doing this to me, right?

Wait.

Money

There is a positive. My child is sweet to me when she wants money. Yup, money is definitely a motivator. I can get her to do a lot of chores for a dollar.

But she wants a $10 bill? Oh, hell, no!

Ope, there we go. I am the biggest asshole in the world again. I can hear her saying it under her breath.

And really? The entire world? All the people in this world, and I am the biggest asshole?

On second thought, maybe she is right, but that is not the point.

Holy shit, we are not even halfway through the year!

Pray for us.

Oh You’re That Dad…

Sorry, but you are that kid.

You are the kid that never has any fun.

You are the kid that does not have to newest gadgets.

You are the kid that has to check in all of the time.

Sorry, Kid, but your Dad is an asshole.

It is not that I am trying to be mean to you, really it isn’t. It is the fact that I believe that everything should come in its own time. You do not have to grow up too fast, you do not have to get everything quickly, and you do not have to make the right decisions all of the time. And that is the thing, you are not equipped to handle a society that will hold you accountable for your actions. You are not equipped for a society that will record you, store the video, and bring it out to use against you thirty years later when you are being considered for a career. The world is not that same as it was 10 or 20 years ago – the level of personal accountability has been heightened.

You want to be out a few more hours past curfew? No!

You want to host a sleepover? Uh-uh.

You want the newest cell phone? HELL NO!

I am sorry that you have to be asked, “What’s with your dad?” or “Why is he so mean?” On second thought, screw that – I am not sorry. I am not their parent!

You have parents who are highly involved in your life, you Lucky Duck. I cannot control what you do when you leave the nest; but, I hopefully have some sort of influence on how you choose to live your life after you leave it. I am your parent and I take that role seriously because I have a sole duty to society to place a responsible, resilient, and reliable person who carries my last name amongst the community.

It may seem like I am doing this to punish you; but, believe it or not, I am doing this our of love.

And some fear. Lots of fear.

Fear of you being in the headlines. Fear of being a part of a scandal. And I’ll admit — fear of someone saying, “Where were the parents?”

Think of your mother’s heart.

Now, go play outside and have your ass in here before the street lights come on.