07:18:02 am on
Friday 29 Mar 2024

More Teenage Hormones
Matt Seinberg

I've written, in the past, how teenage boys are the bane of the existence of any father. From the age of 13-to-19, all teenage boys think of are sports and girls; sports, mostly from 13-to-15; girls from 16 onward. I know this because many years ago I was a teenage boy.


I’m outnumbered six-to-one in my home.

Today, I'm interested in sports, music, television, movies and my electric slot cars. Females outnumber me in my house, six-to-one, so I've given up. With a wife, two daughters and three female cats I never get my way unless I just do it without telling anyone.

Michelle, one of my daughters, has a long distance boyfriend, Travis. He lives in Key West, Florida, where he works at the airport. They've know each other for many years and tried the long distance thing once before, but it didn't work. This time it seems to be working. He just came up for a visit and we saw him when I had my birthday dinner. In three weeks, Michelle is going to visit him in Florida.

I told them both they must have a plan in place when she graduates college. That means where they will live and what kind of jobs they want. He's thinking about the Coast Guard or State Police. Right now, he works for the Transportation Safety Agency (TSA), but doesn't see that as a long-term career choice.

Travis is twenty-four and still wondering what he wants to do. He's past the hormone stage, but still a latent teen. We like him a lot and I can see him as a member of the family when the time is right.


Melissa, my other daughter, has a friend, Bob.

Bob and Melissa are going to the high school senior prom, together. I have one rule and that is before my daughters go out with a young man, the fellow must meet the parents, me, and, maybe, even Derek Jeter, my Louisville Slugger.

Melissa has broken that rule. She says all they do is hang out, in a group with other friends. I put it to her bluntly tonight, telling her that unless we meet him, she can't go out or hang out anymore.

She saw that coming, and agreed. She did tell me that Derek has to stay in my closet. We’ll see.

In that case, I'll tell Bob my expectations and that if he tries any funny stuff, there will be consequences. The boys must be afraid of the father at all times.

Here's another interesting fact Melissa told me, yesterday. Bob graduated high school last year and works full time at an auto body shop. I asked a bunch of questions, including is he going to go to college or stay at the body shop as a career. Naturally, I didn't get an answer.

She says they're just friends, but I have a feeling this is not the entire story. I will find it out, eventually. Michelle makes fun of Melissa, saying, she has a boyfriend. Over my dead body, I say.


I like to dunk walking hormones in pimple cream.

You know what I do with walking hormones. I dunk them in a fifty-five gallon drum of pimple cream and let them ferment for a while, then take them out nice and clean with no more impure thoughts. If once doesn't work, I'll dunk them again.

As I said, I don't like walking hormones.

Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.

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