If you read the daughter’s recent post, you might think I’d go negative in return, but not me. Truth is, I love teenagers, and not just my own ones either.
You know what’s great about teenagers? How open-minded they are. For instance, imagine that five years or so ago you had an eleven-year-old daughter who told you that the Beatles were old-people music and that nobody would ever listen to them again. Imagine that this (purely hypothetical) daughter told you that the music of the Pussycat Dolls had at least as much significance and staying power as the fab four.
Now imagine this same daughter aged forward to, say, sixteen. My prediction would be that she might now very much enjoy the croonings of the Liverpudlian lads, and perhaps even at the dinner table disavow any feelings she ever had for the Pussycat Dolls.
Teenage years reached. Mind opened.
Now imagine you have a four year-old. Imagine that his most frequent utterance these days is, “I know that, daddy; I know everything.”
By my reckoning all you have to do (all I have to do) is wait ten years or so.