One of my favorite Gary Larson cartoons is titled “What we say to dogs.”
It shows a man scolding his pet: “Okay, Ginger! I’ve had it! You stay out of the garbage! Understand, Ginger?”
The second half of the same cartoon is titled “What they hear”: “Blah blah GINGER blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah GINGER.”
Along the same lines, I have often wondered if something similar goes on in the heads of our teenagers, when we try to help them, enlighten them, or — at our most daring moments — give them advice.
For example: You find your teenager slumped at their desk, fast asleep over an assignment they told you was due the next day.
You shake them and say, “Sweetheart, you’re obviously exhausted. Why not put on pajamas, get into bed, and tackle this again in the morning?”
“But mom!” they wail. “I’ve just finished reading the material. I’d only have to read it all over again, in the morning. I can’t waste that kind of time!”
“But you’ll be so much more blah blah blah if you’ve had enough blah.”
Whereupon you close the door and tiptoe away.
Another time, mom almost breaks her toe on her child’s backpack. “This thing is so heavy! Why must you take so many books back and forth? I bet if I put a thread across each one, we’d find you never even opened them.”
“Mom, you’re so weird! I need them all, okay? What’s it to you, anyway?”
“I’m just blah blah blah about your back! I’m afraid you’ll blah blah blah, with so much blah.”
Nothing gets taken out of the backpack.
Teenagers often leave their belongings strewn all around the bedroom — no, all over the house.
Dad has a suggestion: “Don’t you think it would be easier to find your things if you kept them all in one place? Or at least in the same place, one day to the next?”
“I’m fine like this.”
“But then you wouldn’t have to panic, looking for blah, blah, or blah-blah-blah, every time you go out.”
Deaf ears.
There are times when your teen will start moaning about their to-do list: “Mom, I’ve got so much homework, I don’t know where to begin!”
It is tempting to make a suggestion: “Why don’t you start with the hardest thing on your list?”
But don’t bother. Their answer is ready: “That’s just crazy! Why would I settle for getting one thing done, when in the same amount of time I could finish everything else on the list?”
“Well, sweetheart, a lot of experts say blah blah blah more energy, but blah blah blah blah blah.”
Hours later, they’re still fussing over that to-do list, without having gotten any farther.
At least you’ve said your piece.
Sometimes teens are upset by what their friends say or do. But it’s useless to advise them.
“Yes, it’s upsetting when people don’t understand you. But if you try not to blah blah so seriously, then blah blah blah so unhappy.”
Even shoe shopping can become an exercise in non-communication: “If the shoes don’t fit you in the store, honey, don’t buy them, because they’ll never feel any better.”
“That’s just not true, mom. The salesman said if I don’t like the fit, I can bring them back and he can stretch them.”
“Yes, they say that, but trust me, blah blah blah never works, and then you won’t be able to blah blah blah for any credit.”
Yes, when contemplating giving advice to teens, you should probably just save your breath.
They will not hear you — at least, not until they have teens of their own.
I should know; I was the teen in every one of those scenarios. It’s a good thing my parents didn’t strangle me — so I can now pass along all their good advice to my kids.
