When

The other day I was told several times, in a kind of dismissive way, sometimes patronising way, that the way the “nearly the adults” are behaving – is normal. That I shouldn’t be complaining. That every other parent of “ nearly an adult “ was living the same, on a day-to-day basis. Can I be clear – I was NOT complaining!
I was lamenting that:

They come in on an evening, they grunt, they go to the fridge, they moan “there’s nothing in” despite the fridge being rammed full of the weekly shop. They grunt as they go upstairs, back to their rooms, to their “O…M…G…” online world.

They don’t bring down their washing/dirty pots/rubbish/corpses (only kidding, but you know what I mean).

They have their music on so loud the lamp shade in the lounge vibrates in time to the rhythm of what ever noise they are listening to.

They leave the toilet roll on the floor, and don’t clean the toilet after they have evacuated their entire descending intestine.

They create some abstract Art Nouveau creation with their used dinner pots on the work top ABOVE the dishwasher.

They leave the front door unlocked when they go out, and leave the back door open, so any potential intruders, would in effect not be intruders. We may as well have a big Welcome sign…

They are constantly live video chatting to someone they mentioned once, and why on earth had I forgotten about them!!!

As I walk in to MY lounge, (in the house I pay the mortgage for. Out of the money I earn. Which no one else contributes..sorry, I digress). As I walk in to THE lounge, to be confronted with one “nearly an adult”, with his tongue down the neck of his girlfriend, to be shouted at “Why don’t you knock!”

When, having knocked to enter their room, you give them an eloquent soliloquy about your latest news, they interrupt you, remove their invisible ear phones and say “did you say something?”.

When you have to text to tell them their tea is ready, and they are simply upstairs.

When you realise you are starting each of your sentences with “When you….” And reply “fairs” at the end..

When you realise that you haven’t needed to call the police since you moved.

When you have not had to help clean up their bleeding wound from their attempt to self harm.

When they have not gone missing since the night before we left.

When you haven’t been pinned against a wall, with their spit trickling down your face.

When you realise that you have been able to breathe, and not had to control your breathing.

When you know this may just be regrouping and things could start again.

But you have time. Time to regroup yourself. Time to take stock. Time to think that –

“Aren’t teenagers smelly!!!!”