“How many can I have?” G asked.
When throwing a successful party for teenaged boys,… more
Posts Tagged ‘teen’
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Guardians of Virtue
By Daddy Clay Monday, June 4th, 2012
The glowering dad and the awkward suitor, it’s the fatherhood cliché that has spawned a thousand commercials and movie scenes. Entire cinematic franchises have been build around the notion of the old man, shotgun at the ready, on guard to protect his daughter’s virtue. Have you Met the Fockers?
But the media is about as accurate a reflection of reality as a Picasso, while being a shitload less inspiring.
Which leaves me wondering what a dad’s role in the sexual safekeeping of a daughter should be. Read the rest of this entry »
When a Tie Feels Like a Win
By Daddy Clay Monday, May 21st, 2012
My son loves to drape his arm casually over my shoulder and loom there. Usually with a slight smile on his face. Demonstrating yet again that he is, in fact, taller than me. I might still have ten pounds on him, but I have to rely on subterfuge when it comes down to it. When I pat his cheek, I feel a scruff. Patches of rough stubble.
In a matter of weeks he’ll officially be a high school kid.
I know high school kids pretty well. I’ve taught them, lived among them my whole adult life. Which hasn’t necessarily made me a big fan, especially swaggering jock-y boys. Nor has it made me feel prepared to raise one of my own. But a year into it, I have to say that being the dad of a teen is pretty great. Read the rest of this entry »
Man-spa Cures Teenage Tonsurephobia
By Daddy Clay Tuesday, August 16th, 2011
I stared at my iPhone for a moment, wondering, “Why has a repairman just answered my home phone?” Luckily, I recovered quickly and greeted my son.
Adolescence has had more side effects on my oldest than just a lowering of the voice. There’s also the tonsurephobia. While not strictly pathological, Bubba’s aversion to getting his hair cut arrived swiftly and with great force about six months ago. No amount of coaxing nor any denomination of bribe could get him into Wes’ barber’s chair this summer.
This was disheartening because for many years, getting his hair cut was no more complicated than telling the lady at SuperFantasticCuts which guard to put on the clippers (#2 for him #1.5 for me). I blame lacrosse, but that’s an issue for another post.
But after months of struggle, conflict, and not being able to look Bubba in the eyes, I think I have solved the haircut issue. Brilliantly. Read the rest of this entry »
