Preteens Suck: Sh*t My Kid Says Edition


Teenage boys kind of suck. And the ones in the teenage preparation stage, or preteensas they are widely known, aren’t any better. Preteens suck too. This whole phase is a general suckfest of confusion, rage and patience testing for parents.
There isn’t even a gradual descent into this madness. You’ll kiss your kids goodnight and send off your sweet, cherubic child. The next thing you know, a giant, hairy, deep voiced bag of moody emerges. The audacity. And the sh*t my kid says!? Lawdy.

Wait. Is this experience just me? Dear Lord please don’t say it’s just me. I’m not ready for this. I’m barely getting to know this guy.

For the most part, the gremlin I know and love is still in there. But it’s getting harder to find him under the smelly eye rolling mumbler that lives in my house.

I’ve always let The Boy know he can talk to me about anything. Our space is a safe safe space. Always. So we have a pretty open back and forth conversation.

Boy: Mom, I can ask you anything, right? 

Me: Of course.

Boy: So do think you’ll ever land you a man? 


I regret that decision now.

Are you kidding me?! Where the hell did that even come from? “Land me a man”… the nerve. I mean why couldn’t he have just asked about something easy, like where babies come from or whatever? I think I’d rather talk about that. And what does he mean? Is my single lady desperateness so apparent that even my totally clueless 12 year old can detect it? That sucks. It also definitely feels like all the female empowerment and equality lessons I’ve given him are all for nothing. This turd thinks I need a man. I mean maybe just to reach the high shelves and do the handyman stuff I can’t figure out, but really that’s what stepladders and YouTube are for. I thought we were passed this when he stopped introducing me as his “mom who doesn’t have a boyfriend” to his school counselor and coaches. Apparently not.

For the record, I’m not desperate. It’s just incredibly annoying that anyone asks about my relationship or lack of one. Especially my smelly 12 year old. Congratulations, Mom. You played yourself.

So I guess we’re having this talk now.

Me: Can you explain yourself?

Boy: Well don’t you ever want to date? Like you know- go out and stuff? Land you a man? 

Oh, well this isn’t as horrible as I thought. I explained that yes, I do go out on dates (how often or how little is none of his business). I just don’t like to go out during the week when he has school or on the weekends he’s home and not with his dad. The weekends he’s home are for us. Whether or not we have plans, I love our time together without worrying about bedtime or homework.

The truth comes out. 

Me: Also, who’s asking and who even cares?

Boy: Well sometimes I’d like the house to myself. You know, a little ‘me time’. Maybe get on a dating app or something. 

This little shit. Ulterior motives! What level of ‘me time’ does a 12 year old actually needs? It’s just the two of us in a three bedroom house and there’s a living room and den aside from his bedroom for his ‘me time’. Ugh. ‘me time’. Frakkin kid. He just wants me out of the house.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT TEENAGERS JUST SUCKING? Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to check this child’s phone to make sure he hasn’t secretly downloaded Hinge or something.





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