He sez, sezzee?

Ok, now, really.
When did the children get elected to rule the world?
Is this a natural offshoot of those awful "idiot adult" movies of the '80s? Or is it something more sinister?
I'm really, really, old so I remember the days when I didn't think of calling any one of my friend's parents by their first name.
I didn't know my mother had a first name until I was around 15.
Nobody would have dreamt of inviting friends to the house after school and THEN! expecting the parents to drive them home when they wanted to go.
What IS going on here?
Since when did adolescents rule the world? (this isn't a political post so I won't comment further on that...)
Since when did they absolutely HAVE to possess cell phones?
Since when did they take every bite of food for granted?
Since when did they think that the roof over their heads was their god-given right?
Since when was the request to clean up the biohazard that they call their bedrooms a threat?
Who the bloody hell thinks this is a good thing?
I don't.
OK, right, I know, I'm old and decrepit but I just simply refuse to be treated by those kids as their "equal." When they get to be my age, have done what I have done and paid the price for sacrificing, yeah, sure.
As it stands at this moment, they will never be my equal.
Not in experience.
Not in sacrifice.
Not in honor and duty, intelligence or brains.
Not ever.
When SS's little 15-year-old girlfriend walks into the house and is greeted, then ignores same greeting?
Maybe she needs a spanking. Or, maybe, she just doesn't need to be here.
Ever.
Same thing applies to YMS and his friends.
It really pisses me off.
I suppose I should talk with Himself about this. Maybe he has a solution to it. I don't, except to say that it really pisses me off.

*yawn*

It is impossible to write anything that makes any sense in this state.

I can write sick, drunk, mad, happy, sad, but I can't write exhausted. It's frustrating when the thought is there but won't translate from the visual in my head to words. Reminds me of taking painting lessons. I could see the picture in my mind but getting it from there to the canvas just wouldn't work.

It's no surprise to anyone who has kids that this should happen. Doesn't matter what age they are because it's one thing or another, even long after they leave home. Just seems like the tired gets more "tiredey," as I get older. Back there in the Paleozoic of my life, I could go 20 hours a day for years straight. Not much choice, really, not then. Maybe my body is getting back at me for all those years. Great, a vengeful body. That would explain the widening of the butt, too.

The teenagers are the tired-makers. Two seventeen year old males are about the limit of what I can handle. If it isn't one of them doing something utterly stupid, it's the other one. They alternate days, an amicable arrangment for them, I would suppose. Doesn't do much for the Old Lady, though. An old friend dropped in yesterday for no particular reason. We sat down at the table and he remarks, "Well, you look better. Have some color in your cheeks." Great. I didn't know I had been looking so bad. Somebody might have told me. "Old girl, you're looking quite raggedy. Might I suggest a week or two in Fiji?"

As a matter of fact, I am tired enough that I am not even cooking anything remotely tasty for supper. Loose meat sandwiches for us, with chips, whatever he can find for the veggie teen. This is sort of an anomalous thing because I know most people would consider loose meat sandwiches to be cooking. Nah. Putting something in a pan, pouring broth over, simmering until done, nah, that isn't real cooking. That's TiredCrankyOldLady night. Sure as hell beats Fend for Yourself, though, even if it isn't real cooking. A person could get real sick of breakfast food in a short time.