Mid Summer Teen Report
The seventeen year old is horizontal and still sleeping. It’s 11:45 a.m.
He awoke briefly in response to the plastic bag of dog poop camped at the foot of his bed. A helpful little reminder that poop patrol goodies are temporarily housed in the distant back yard and not in the garage garbage cans.
He’ll emerge, voluntarily by 1 p.m., or involuntarily at any time the spirit moves me. If neither parent nor paycheck requires his consciousness, he will grunt his way through the kitchen and descend to the basement, adolescent sustenance in hand. There he will remain vertical on an as needed basis, and eventually resume a parallel oneness with the couch in front of the t.v.
The sixteen year old is vertical and watching t.v. in the family room. To her credit, she emerged circa 9 a.m. She has had the ritual bowl of Capt’n Crunch Crunch Berries, the breakfast of choice for summer hiatus, while watching Regis and Kelly and The View. She’s now ascended to the upper level and commenced the late morning schedule. Shower, make up, hair.
Ok, they have summer jobs. Big deal. I did, too, at that age. One dollar per room cleaned at that Holiday Inn. Hoo boy, those were the days. On a good weekend I could rake in twenty-six, twenty-seven dollars.
The rest of my time was very well spent.
Sleeping in on days off.
Cruising up and down the main drag on nights I could sweet talk Dad in to letting me have the car.
Hanging out with friends doing nothing in particular as far away from my parents as I could get.