Gropius: “Please come in here and get your clothes out of the dryer.” “…Today.”
Teenager Translation: Begin dribbling basketball loudly, inside your room, especially since you’ve been asked 10 billion times not to do it.
Gropius: “I know what you’re saying can’t be right. Tell me the truth before I have to call your teacher.”
Teenager Translation: If you can pull this lie off for another 48 hours, you can at least enjoy the weekend before you get busted on Monday.
Gropius: “I would like you to read now like you’re supposed to be doing.”
Teenager Translation: Emerge from room for the first time in, oh let’s see, 5 minutes. Get a drink and a snack AGAIN, then hang around to ask parents questions about the show they’re watching.
Gropius: “We’ve been doing something together all day. I need some space, you need some space. Please find something quiet to do by yourself.”
Teenager Translation: Bother the dog. Begin talking in an exaggerated poochie-mouthed nausea fest, making her wonder if she’s getting a treat, going for a walk or just plain having her hopes worked up for no reason.
2 comments:
It could be worse... you could have two of them. It's been a rough week at the PLRH house. Don't let the blog fool you. Some of those posts were written ahead of time.
oh dear, thankfully mine have outgrown that stage but I remember it well
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