Dad vs. the Teen-Age Male

My daughter is 15, an age where she is taking an inordinate interest in the male of the species. That’s to be expected.

Last night, she forgot her cell phone at her mother’s house. Now, this device is her primary means of communicating with the outside world. (We can prove it. Thank God for unlimited minutes after 7PM.)

She called a certain young man to advise him that 1) he should not call her cell phone; and, 2) she was at our house, not her mother’s.

This morning, we stopped at her mother’s to pick up her phone on the way to school. We discovered that said young man 1) called her cell phone anyway; 2) at 10:45 P.M.

I was instantly transformed into Dadzilla.

Was the punk even listening when my beautiful daughter gave him the courtesy of a call? What in his hormone-addled mind makes him think that 10:45 on a school night is an appropriate time to call her?

More to the point, how’s he going to sit with a cell phone jammed up his…

Deeeep breaths, deeeep calming breaths.

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