Teen Talk

The teenage years are the most trying and troubling time of our lives, but remember–they’re only temporary!  The Teen Talk lady talks to teens about their problems, without tattling.

 

Dear Teen Talk Lady:

I am seventeen and want to get a snake for a pet. My mom says no, even though I am responsible and have promised to take care of it. Can you think of something I can say to persuade her–this is really important to me.

I made honor roll last semester but will get a “C” in biology this term because I stole a dead frog from the lab.

Lyle Turner, Cape Girardeau, Mo.

Dear Lyle–

Don’t be upset. Many teenage “gotta haves” fade away in just a few months. You may not know it, but owning a snake also means owning lots of mice, which are snakes’ favorite snacks!  Let your mother see how you take care of your newly-acquired frog over the next few months, and if you still want a snake at that point, you will be standing on firmer ground, even if you smell worse.

“Why don’t you dump Gene Ray so I can go out with him?”

 

Dear Teen Talk:

I recently checked my “Facebook” page and found out that several of my so-called “friends” had posted disparaging comments under my picture, including “Dumb Stupidhead,” “Nobody likes you anymore!” and “You need dress shields, sweathog.”

Dress shields: The sweaty girl’s best friend.

 

Mrs. Teen Talk–I am very depressed because you said several columns ago that friends and family were the most important things in life, and I haven’t liked my family for several years so I need my friends. I would be interested in your thoughts as soon as possible.  I am about to make myself a Screwdriver or a Rum and Coke from my parents’ liquor cabinet.

Delores Van de Kamp, Goshen, Indiana

“You are such a nimmy-not!”

 

Dear Delores:

Hold it right there–I never said friends were more important than family. You should always check with your parents before making mixed drinks from the family’s stock of hard liquor. You never know when the adults in the house will throw a cocktail party or fun backyard barbecue, and if you commit suicide in your current depressed state you will leave them with a funeral on their hands and no vodka in the house.  Many families choose to educate their children about the perils of drinking by serving them small amounts of wine with dinner until they throw up.  Please–leave alcohol education to adults, who have learned how to abuse it properly.

Prom night.

 

Teen Talk Person:

I have been going out with “Cindy” for a year now. When we were juniors I took her to the prom, but she was crabby the whole night. Finally I asked her what the problem was and she said “I have PMS. It’s a disease that all women get and it makes us miserable.  Go get me a Coke.”

We got through the night but now the Senior Sweetheart dance is coming up–same day as the prom last year–and I would like to know more about this “PMS” disease.  Will Cindy be sick again on that day? Do all girls get it at the same time? If not, I think I’m going to ask somebody else.

T.J. Baxter, Jr., Stillwater, Oklahoma

 

Dear T.J.:

Pre-menstrual syndrome or “PMS” is indeed God’s little practical joke on the fairer sex. It makes us feel bloated, cranky and out of sorts.  I’d like to see him deal with it–talk about the wrath of a vengeful God!  There’d be plagues and drought and earthquakes all over the world one week every month.

Social Security Office: “Yours will be–the third week of the month. Next!”

 

Anyway, to answer your questions: it is impossible to predict exactly when PMS will strike, so you should follow your heart and invite whichever girl you really like to the dance.  Girls do not get it all at the same time, so you have the entire female part of your student body to choose from.  PMS dates are handed out randomly at birth, like social security numbers.

 

Dear Teen Talk:

For several years I have had a crush on this boy whom I will call “Darrell” because that is his name, although without the quotation marks.  “Darrell” is not the most popular boy in school, so don’t tell me I am “aiming too high” or “being unrealistic.”  He is not the quarterback of our football team or anything.  He is a defensive tackle who shifts to nose guard when we are in a three-man front–usually when we are in a “prevent” alignment at the end of the game to stop a possible “Hail Mary” pass.

“Grrr!”

 

My problem is-Darrell does not know I exist. He’s always with his buddies and my guess is he thinks that since he is on the team he should only go out with really attractive girls, which granted, I am not. How do I get him to notice him and like me?

Jean Marie Swenson, Cuyahoga, Ohio

 

Dear Jean Marie–

As my mother would say, the answer is “as plain as a pig on a sofa”! You obviously love football, and know a lot about it.

Powder Puff Football: “We’re going to kick your cellulite, you skanks!”

 

Why not organize a “powder puff” football game for girls only and ask Darrell to coach you in defensive “stunts” and legal use of the hands for down linemen. I bet he’ll be happy to help out–just don’t let him jump offsides!

 

Available in Kindle format on amazon.com as part of the collection “Take My Advice–I Wasn’t Using it Anyway.”