I am wrong.
Also, I am annoying. I miss obvious points. I am illogical. I don’t see common sense. I am in the same room. I like the pillows on the couch. I make unreasonable demands. I ask too many questions. I am appallingly ignorant about sports. I am late to parties.
But sometimes I’m okay.
Got an adolescent? I suspect you know what I’m talking about. This is how the creature I was promised would show up in my house right around this time apparently views me–some of the time. “Jack” will be thirteen in a few months, and, to quote from a movie, “he’s good at it.” (100 points to the reader who can identify the movie and the actor who said the line.) I find that we can go from pleasant, even fun interaction to “get out of my face” in .07 seconds or less, and then back again (if I’m lucky).
I know this behavior is normal. I also know that it’s exhausting. And, frankly it’s no fun to deal with Incensed-Almost-Teen when Great-Kid-I-Know-And-Love had just been sitting on the couch next to me, laughing with me over a joke or something funny the cats did. But then he asked if he could do something and I said no, or maybe I even said, “We’ll see,” and WHAM! It’s like being body-slammed without ever making physical contact.
It’s not that I don’t sympathize with him.