A weekend with teenagers ain’t for the faint of heart

I recently had the (dis) pleasure of hosting 3 teenagers in my home for a period of 4 days. One of those teenagers just happens to be my (much) younger sister, which is the only reason any of them got out alive. To say the days we spent together were an exercise in patience would be a gross understatement. The truth is, every minute that ticked by on the clock proved to be another test for my patience level. Turns out I really do have the patience of a saint.

The high (low?) lights of the weekend included:

  • Coming home from running an errand to find a naked teenage boy lying in my bathtub in the pitch dark. At 7:30 pm.
  • Hearing Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass”. Over. And over. And over. And over again
  • Listening to said teenagers screaming all of the lyrics to said song.
  • Playing chauffer and wanting to die of embarrassment as rap music was blared from the speakers. Note to self:  Begging teenagers to “turn it down” simply does not work. And it makes you sound like your mother. 
  • Watching teenagers guzzle flavored vodka as if it were water. Okay, I participated too. Don’t judge, it was the only way I knew to retain my sanity. 

Lessons learned over the course of the 4-day “How much bullshit can you tolerate” workshop included:

  • Don’t ever ask a teenager to do the dishes for you unless you want to hear foot stomping & constant sighing, coupled with eyes being rolled at you repeatedly.
  • Teenagers have no “filter” and will therefore tell your middle-aged waitress she is “hot”, kiss old men passing by and wear nothing but their bikinis on a busy street.  Then they will wonder why everyone is staring. No joke. 
  • Every single thing you do is a photo opportunity, including spending time on the toilet.
  • The only poses acceptable in photos are throwing up the “peace” sign or making a pouty-face with your lips. Bonus points if you do both at the same time. 
  • Clothes are meant to be thrown on the floor and never, ever picked up.

Broke a glass @ nice restaurant? NBD.

At one point over the course of their visit, I texted my mom and said, “I understand why babies are so adorable. It’s to ensure you fall in love with them enough that you do them no harm when they become teenagers.”

When they finally left to return to their lives of sleeping in, inhaling all food within a 5 mile radius and taking breaks from text messaging to sass their parents, I breathed a sigh of relief. But then, for a brief moment, I almost missed the sight of 3 teenagers Facebook creepin’ while sprawled out all over my couch. On second thought…no I didn’t.

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