Dear Adults Who Turn Into Stroppy Teenagers When Visiting Their Parents.


Dear Adults Who Turn Into Stroppy Teenagers When Visiting Their Parents,

I’m writing to tell you to cherish your strops and don’t feel guilty for them. Enjoy them for they are an aspect of your relationship with your parents that harks back to a time when they were the giants in your life and you were still vulnerably learning about life and the world, and then reflect how far you have come.

I left home at 18, I haven’t lived at home for 12 years, yet no matter what, within an hour of returning home for a weekend visit you could utterly guarantee I would be reduced to a snarling stroppy teenager as my parents invariably started to wind me up.  I was an adult yet only they could reduce me to a grunting, fed up, sarky, ungrateful strophead.  I wasn’t proud of this but I acknowledged that such is invariably the way between parents and children.  When I had kids of my own, the Act eased off a bit as we could focus on them and not whether or not I had eaten my vegetables I probably hadn’t.

Now my dad has died, the Teenage Strop Act has probably gone for good.  When I go home now- I am the adult and now in some ways my mum is the child who needs looking after.  This makes me sad.  My dad used to wind me up something chronic but the fact he is never going to wind me up again, means that finally the teenager within me has grown up for good.

Cherish your inner teenager- you’ll miss him/her when they are gone.

Lots of monosyllabic love

LadyKevinTheTeenagerNoMoreCurd

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