My son had a birthday party this weekend.
Eleven teenagers did not just fill my living room, they consumed it. The life (and noise) emanating from my little house probably registered on someone’s Richter scale. Then I fed them pizza, Doritos and Mountain Lightening (hey, I’m cheap. at least I bought the real Doritos.).
Once the sugar and carbs hit their blood stream, they became an all-consuming organism, much like flesh-eating disease.
That’s when they spilled from my house and into the snow. I’m sure the neighbors were singing my praises, but even a veteran parent can only contain mass-energy for so long before it erupts into loud noises, wrestling, and farts. With fourteen year-old boys, there’s always excess gas.
I felt a little sorry for the four girls that were part of the bunch, but I imagine they each had their little hearts set on a different smelly boy.
The next day my son said, “You didn’t interfere as much as I thought you would.”
I imagine I felt like mama spiders do right before they eat their young.
Welcome to the world of parenting teenagers.