Winding down after another day in the paradise that is raising teenage boys, I find myself once again holed up in the relative calm of my porch, shuttered against the storm that I know will eventually pass. The wind is howling in the form of foul lyrics blaring from the lips of a talented young songwriter who has yet to realize he’d reach so many more people if only he could limit his use of expletives.
Attitude abounds in the mind of a stripling who clearly knows it all. Hubris prevents him from keeping his misguided thoughts to himself. Before you know it, enough eye-rolls, heavy sighs and disparaging grumblings have been shot my way that my calm requests for respect crescendo into outright demands. Yes, I’m yelling now. It never fails to surprise me how easily I succumb to the quick sand that girds him. Before you know it I’ve sunk to his level.
I remind myself that in these moments he finds me to be the most overbearing obstacle in his life, and that his behavior is about control and exercising his independence.
My sapience always saves me. True strength speaks in a whisper.
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