Having A Teenager Stay In My House: A Nevin Barich Blog Experience

I currently have a brooding teenager sitting in my living room.

Actually, I don't know for sure that he's brooding. I'm assuming he's brooding. He's sitting on a sofa chair, staring at a TV that isn't on. He doesn't want anything to eat, doesn't want anything to drink, doesn't want to watch TV, and has said 5 words since he arrived 12 hours ago.

And when I say 5 words, I mean 5 words.

He has said the following:

"I got it."

"No."

"OK."

That's it. That's been the extent of our verbal correspondence.

This weekend, my 15-year-old cousin Jack, along with his brothers 10-year-old Little T and 6-year-old Draven, are staying with me and my wife Ramona. The younger ones haven't stopped talking since they've arrived. We've talked about video games, computer games, Spongebob, cereal, The Godfather, and sweeping up the leaves in my backyard.

But Jack has been silent. Wordless. I mean, this kid barely blinks. It's weird. I know this is common in teenagers, but when me and my sister Blake were growing up, we didn't go through this stage as teenagers. Ramona didn't either. The three of us all spoke to adults at age 15. We didn't go through a brooding stage. So to be honest, it's hard for me to relate.

I'll tell you another thing: It wasn't too long ago that I was young enough that these brooding teenagers thought I was cool enough to talk to. When I was in my 20s, I wasn't considered anything close to being a parent. Thus, I was OK to converse with in the eyes of teenagers.

But then some things happened. I got married. I turned 31. I bought a house. All of these scream "adult" and thus make me uncool in the eyes of a teenager. These are some of the qualities that they see in their parents; thus, I'm a pariah. It doesn't matter that I can still talk to them about music, girls, video games, high school; nope, they don't care. I'm in my 30s. I'm a loser that they'll never, ever become.

And thus, the teenager broods.

As I end this blog, the teenager rises from his chair. He looks for, and finds, the cereal. He can't find a spoon.

"Hey Jack," I say, "look left." It's in that drawer.

He goes to the drawer. Finds a spoon.

He smiles.

Nonverbal communication.

I'll take what I can get.

:-)

And now for this week's:

SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE

Remember Back To The Future II?

Remember the power laces?

Now they're a reality.

:-)

Power laces? Far out!!