smells like teen

Your modern teenager is not about to listen to advice from an old person; defined as a person who remembers when there was no Velcro.
Dave Barry

Loud. Smelly. Unpredictable.

Clothes on the floor instead of the closet or the dresser or the dirty clothes hamper. A room that smells like something died in there. Years ago.

Food that disappears as fast as it enters the house. No more kiddie menus.  Full size, adult meals PLUS "are you going to finish that" and "what's for dessert".

Light still on.  Not studying, but yelling at some random stranger on Xbox Live, half-way around the world. It's after midnight, go to sleep.

A mix of chlorine and sweat and dirt and body odor and body spray.  Shoes and feet that smell so bad I nearly throw up when I have the misfortune of being in the same room with them.

"Can I borrow your car?" Sure, but don't forget to leave the stereo at an ear-shattering volume.

Staying up late and sleeping all day.

No longer a child but not yet an adult. Stuck between what the world expects and what you want to do.

Stand tall. Pull up your pants. Wash your hands.

Roll your eyes and shrug your shoulders and assume that I know nothing about being a teenager.  Nothing about peer pressure. Nothing about dating and relationships and the drama that comes from teenage girls. Nothing about stress and a demanding schedule and choosing priorities and making time for what is important.

And then there are those times where out of nowhere you hold my hand in public or dog-pile on top of me laughing uncontrollably. Cuddle up next to me on the couch to watch a movie. Let me tell you that the fight you had with your girlfriend is not the end of the world (as you seem to think) but an opportunity for the two of you to grow.

Someday, you'll have a teenager, too. And you will understand that I did indeed know what I was talking about.  Until then, for the love of G-d, pull up your damn pants!