Friday, 8 October 2010

Sibling Rivalry - Father Kinda Saves the Day

Picture a scene if you will, a dysfunctional family, where Teenager 1~ the boy ~ is sitting playing on what used to be the family iPad.

Family iPad was agreed at point of purchase that is. It was agreed all family would have access to the expensive new toy. Family iPad what a fool am I, it has now evolved, faster than Darwin could count forty sheep and turn them into winks, to become the Teenager iPad.

Teenager 2 ~the daughter~is knitting, do not ask me why, it is an aberration on a cosmic scale of being a teenager. Teenage knitting I ask you, in a scale of 1 to "not bloody likely", this is taking the Pryce family to new heights in "what the" Twilight mountains. It proves as dysfunctional goes, Pryce family does Dysfunctional Extreme very well.

I ~ the adult participant in this motley crew ~ am probably looking like an overweight fella that needs a fitness regime more than I need another icecream and we all know that I know where the fridge is and I need a GPS to find a fitness studio. There is no surprise that I am an inclusion zone involving a telly.

Teenager 2 decides knitting is not tickling the excitement button and probably is a hobby best left for pensioners. So on a whim and a prayer, she now wants the IPad which as a Teenager, and it is a Teenager iPad, she still has rights of access that have been lost to all adults. Teenager 1 is mid doing something more exciting than homework and is reluctant to give-up a pleasure nanosecond. The iPad is his.

Sibling war is upon us in a matter of deciding a stitch in time is bloody boring.

I am a peacemaker, a man of few words, but thoughtful words none the less.

I offer guidance to my teenage two.

"Teenager1 when you grow up in seven or so years, you two will be the best of friends, so be nice, hey, will be asking your sister "How's Uni? istead of all this 'its mine nonsense' "
I go on as life-coach in waiting, a parental voice of reason...

"And Teenager 1, you will be asking your brother "Have you finished your dustbin round, was it green containers today?" "

Ooops, one-sided laughter ensues, I am a wit, albeit with a foot that is not as well grounded as it should be, when there is an available mouth to fill.

But, however and double butt.....he ~Teenager 1~ is riled and not reconciled to his role as a butt of my joke.

He is staring at me, like only a teenager could, venom bleeds eyeball-sized. He stares intently as a teenager wronged and he will not be responsible for his actions. He is in the "zone" declared Teenjhad, revenge will be his.

I am a man in fear, an adult living with the teenage bomb, I will be verbally attacked probably mid breakfast, mid cornflake, mid milky gulp with a wetted piece of corn lingering from an incisor, potentially hindering any counter attack without causing serious spluttering and hiccups.

And we know Hiccups are dangerous at my age.

I am a man who will be the first man to suffer hospitalisation with a cornflake covered foot in need of surgical removal from an adult-sized mouth.

Pray for me, dear parents. I'm a gettin' religion.

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