Welcome to the teenage zone.....

........That's why I sleep in the garage.

Yes, its true, we have entered that phase of life (insert scary music here) where we have teenagers in the house. Female teenagers. Two of them. Mine. (insert a confused and scared look on my face here). And another one who is 11 going on 19.
Oh, I knew it was coming. I remember the day they were born, I said to Kathie, "Do you realize in 13 short years we will be the parents of teenage girls?" She was still high from the happy pills so she said something like "that's great dear, let me cut off your penis" What? I chalk it up to 36 hours of labor, and the fact I have a penis. Somehow, he always gets blamed for everything. Yes, I said he, all of us guys view our little man as just that, a separate, but special part of our whole make-up. Most guys I know have a pet name for him, and you are not going to find out what mine is. Lets just say it rhymes with loose. And has antlers.
Anyway, I got off track. Back to teenager stuff. Like emotions. Can you say "hyper sensitive crazy goofy intense"? I knew you could. I thought it was Urban legend that you could simply ask your daughter, "How was your day?" and they stomp down the hallway screaming, "Daddy, how could you ask me such a thing?" (Insert door slamming here!) I admit, I do get cranky myself at times, when I discover that the two gallons of milk and 3 large boxes of cereal have been consumed in a day and a half, but that's when I usually retreat into my own little oasis, my garage.
Now, mine is nice, and I love it, but its nowhere near the level of my cousins husband, who will remain nameless. Lets just say it rhymes with rent. And starts with a B. Anyway, he has a pool table, cool beer mirrors, a TV and carpet. I asked if I should take my shoes off the last time I was there, it felt like hallowed ground. My garage is nice, I have a small TV and a mini fridge, but it is usually covered in the 17 loads of laundry that need doing at all times. So, I trudge out through the towels and girls undergarment and more towels, and watch TV. I have threatened to move out there permanently, but it is too hot in the summer, too cold in the winter, and there are spiders. Did I mention dirty towels?
So, I press on ahead, trying to endure all of this and wait til they start dating. When they are 34. Seriously, I am not ready for that part yet. Teenage boys with their constant I-pod in their ear, that dumb look on their face, and that shaggy, unkempt hair. Its the 70's all over again, except we kept our butts in our pants. And we had 8-Tracks.
So about dating, I heard a comedian say he had the teenage girl, dating dilemma all figured out: He would not potty train his daughter. She would be on her first date, and they boy goes to make his move, and asks, "what is that smell?" That's a good idea, but then we would have to rent a shipping container for all the laundry. I still say stun guns are the way to go.
So anyway, I try and endure the wild mood swings, the constant attitude, the almost constant texting and Cell-phone bills, and the hugs. Yes, that's right, when one of my daughters stops and gives me a great big hug....the world stops spinning for just a few moments, and everything is all right. "Dad, I love you".....makes me tear up and makes me so GRATEFUL that The Lord allowed me to be a Dad, to three wonderful, special, smart, talented, awesome, (insert about 100 more qualities here) girls that keep me on my toes, but also bring me much joy and contentment. I love you ladies, and promise to watch out for you, and embarrass you, as much as I can. You must promise to help with the laundry, keep on keeping me on my toes, and keep on hugging me as long as we are both alive.
(insert a smile here)