A Post Of Offal
To any new followers seduced by my earlier teases of blogger propriety, I apologize for today’s post. But if you enjoy adolescent humor, I encourage you to stick around.
If you’re not familiar with my Awful Offspring Offal, see my About Me page for a quick description. Today’s sweet nuggets include one from each son. Though my youngest lags behind the oldest in offal content, he has amassed an impressive collection lately, which suggests that the seeds of scatology require a period of incubation before sprouting.
Pre-Teen Offal:
During a recent seizure-inducing stroll around the Circus Circus arcade in Las Vegas, an odd thumping besieged my buttocks. Subtle at first, the sensation intensified. I halted and peered behind me. Why, it’s a green blow-up alien doll pecking my tush! The following monotonous chant from my son accompanied this outer-world intimacy:
“Looking for next human anus to probe. Looking for next human anus to probe. Looking for next…”
My dignity has not been seen since.
In addition to my dignity, the extraterrestrial snot took my chair, my bible, and my beer.
Teenager Offal:
While enjoying a family dinner of Chicken Cacciatore and pleasant conversation, surprisingly devoid of penis and poo talk, my fifteen year old shat the following non-sequitur:
“Dad’s head looks like a vagina.”
Um, say what?
Not Mr. Rubin’s head and not a vagina.
My dear Mr. Rubin, I assure you, your head does not resemble a vagina. But obviously, redirection of our educational efforts is urgently needed.
Questions? Answers? Don’t worry. I don’t expect a response. I only hope you’ll be back.
Images other than my butt-probing alien are from Microsoft Clip Art.
For the 0.2% of you who are interested, I’m about half-way through my edits. My editor is kinder on me than I am to myself. I oscillate between thinking, “Hey, my book’s okay” and “Good God, my book stinks.” But I guess that’s what happens when you’ve read something so many times it becomes a permanent stain on your retinas.
106 Responses to “A Post Of Offal”
[...] haven’t posted any Awful Offspring Offal for a while, but today, for something different, I’m going to showcase some Horrible Husband [...]
[...] include the people who think I’m an idiot? I suppose Mr. Rubin, but with a head shaped like a vagina, what do you [...]
Loved this post, funny as hell. I guess we should be thanking your family too…..lol….
Thank you! Sometimes I worry about putting some of my sons’ “offal” out there, but then I remember anyone with a teenage boy probably gets it.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. I’ll have to check yours out in more detail when I return from my break, where I’m currently in a location that charges me 65 cents a minute for Internet use. Yikes…
[...] goes Mr. Rubin—quietly—as he’s still a bit shell-shocked over the whole vagina-head thing. Second up is Teenager Rubin, flinging scatological terms and penis references your way [...]
Cool post. I bet we could do a great battle of the Teenage Offal (or should that be tripe?). See ya and raise ya
. The wonders of sons!
I should say, you’ve now appeared back in my Reader and my inbox and all is right with the world
.
Oh, good!
Ha ha–see? You know what I’m talking about. And I like the word “tripe,” but it doesn’t have the same alliteration as “Awful Offspring Offal.”
Enjoyable post! Love the comments! I can’t wait to hear about your editing process! And of course the tadah!! It’s done and dusted!
Thank you!–both for the words about my book and for the fact that you lowered yourself to actually comment on this drivel.
lol…I like it where it’s real! When is the book due? I know that’s a vague question answer, but any ideas? Keep us posted please!!!!
It’s supposed to be released in September, either on the 1st or the 15th. But I’m sure delays are always possible.
[...] Carrie Rubin’s family a break again this week until she put keyboard type to post with “A post of offal“. Hmm, what’s a poor bonus haiku, living off the skimping weekend morsels of [...]
Your kids are weird and funny.
Truer words were never spoken. And now that they know their antics find their way onto my blog, they’ve gotten even weirder. Coincidence? I think not…
I use to believe my brain needed to be scrubbed after a day with my teen sons. Then I realized, nah they were actually pretty funny and they cleaned it up when I was in the room.
Can’t wait till you are done with the edits!
In need of a brain scrub–that’s a perfect way to describe it.
But I agree; like yours, my boys provide good laughs, and they treat their momma well, so all’s good.
I’ve always been skeptical that aliens built the amazing technology to all this way to check out our plumbing. Then again, our own motivations for things are sometimes even sketchier
Ha ha–I’ve often thought the same thing. Alien life forms that advanced would surely have a better means of examining our insides.
I’m always trying to squash the ‘inappropriate’ talk that occurs daily between my boys but I see that I’m fighting a losing battle. Maybe what I should be doing is recording their funny gems and we can have an offal contest some day
You’re right; there’s no sense fighting it. It comes with the chromosome. The best we can hope for is that they leave it at home and don’t take it out in public. And yes, it’s good to record the gems when they come along. You never know when you’ll have a lack-of-ideas blog day.
This post is funny, but probably because I can laugh at someone else having to put up with teen and preteen angst. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt, was ridiculed and told how uncool it is.
I’m sure your edits aren’t as bad as you think they are. We are our worst critics…or maybe our editors are. Keep your chin up and you’ll get through them.
And tell Le Clown to stop following me. There’s a word for that. Infatuation.
The recommended edits are not bad at all. To be honest, there’s not a lot of red on the manuscript. It’s more me being so picky over every little thing: Oh, I’m using “then” too much; I’m using “was” too much; I need to strengthen this verb; should this comma really go there?–That kind of thing. I’m my own worst enemy.
As for Le Clown, he’s tricky that way. But then again, anyone who can breastfeed a sock monkey is.
You are right. I don’t know how I could have forgotten about the monkey.
Good news! I’m absolutely speechless for a change
Yes, I’m pleased there’s no drastic changes to make in my manuscript. Now, if I could just tame my perfectionism and quit obsessing over every comma and every potentially weak word, I might actually get to sleep at night.
You poor thing. I know exactly what you mean about the obsessing. But I have no doubt that all of your hard work will pay off and that the book will take off.
Now get some sleep 
Thank you! And I did. Get some sleep, that is. Not quit obsessing.
Oh to live in a house full of testosterone.
Yep. Like a box of moldy chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.
LOL. At least if one sickens you, another might provide the cure. ;P
I’d say that a boy’s sense of humor gets more refined as he gets older, but the last five years have convinced me otherwise. I had no idea that beef base could be rolled into a um, specimen, and placed on a toilet seat to disturb one’s coworkers, but now that I’ve been enclosed into “one of the guys” mentality of the kitchen, I…WOW. Just, wow. I could start a blog based solely on disturbing, off-color stories. I have to call the food tickets so that my fellow cooks will know what to cook in an obscene fashion, otherwise they’ll tune me out, and I’ll look over ten minutes later and say “How much longer on that chicken fried steak?”, and they’ll gape at me, “What chicken (insert gross reference here)?”. I’m not sure whether to feel violated or simply disturbed by my daily “liberation” from polite society.
Now that I’ve read what I just wrote, it sounds terrible. Hey, I promise that despite their shenanigans and forms of speech, none of them has ever done anything nasty to a customer’s food. We do have some standards, at least. It’s just that they censor themselves less when “delicate” womenfolk aren’t around. The scary thing is that they’re still censoring…somewhat. I’m glad I don’t know how much weirder this could be.
There you go! Thank you for confirming what I’ve suspected. The verbal sewage does not go away once a guy becomes an adult. Even my husband, a very educated man, enjoys trash talking with the boys. It’s something on the Y chromosome, I tell you. Of course, I obviously perpetuate it by blogging about it.
You poor dear–surrounded by all of that testosterone. Talk about thickening one’s skin!
I can understand your dignity taking a hit on the anal probing alien front, but I can’t help but get nostagic about the Dad’s head looks like a va-jay-jay comment.
One of my friends growing up came from a pugilistic brood of Irishmen. One night when I was over for a gourmet dinner the mother had prepared, one of the kids commented that he didn’t think the dinner was all that good. The father reached across the table and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, with one brawny hand, and then quickly brought the other hand, in the form of a massive fist, across the jaw of his son. I was amazed, having never seen violence before except on TV. Before I could utter a gasp of astonishment, the son showed his dipleasure in the quality of the meal along with his contempt for Dad by hitting him back a solid shot to the nose. The rest is a blur, including profanity, haymakers, blood, at least one lost tooth and most astonishing, the rest of the family enjoying their meal as though nothing was happening.
I was magically transported back to that table briefly as I wondered what the reaction would have been to the son if instead of griping about a delicious meal he had told the old man that his head looked like a vagina. I’m thinking at the very least, there would have been a stabbing, if not a shooting.
Ah…the good old days…I’m getting all misty eyed just thinking about them.
Ha ha–your story made me laugh. And cringe. Yes, Mr. Rubin is a good-natured guy and overlooks my sons’ teasing. I know other men might not be so patient. I am happy to report there are no fist fights in my home, including between my two sons, though their verbal sparring can sometimes impress. Always clean, though. They know better than to cuss around their momma. Or anyone.
Edits will suck you dry, eh? Good thing you’ve got a comic in training to keep you well balanced. I’m wondering if David Sedaris’ & sister Amy were so artful with Sharon and Lou?
I listened to half a David Sedaris audio book on a long drive once. I thought it was hysterical. Are Sharon and Lou his parents? I don’t remember their names.
And when it comes to editing, I am a victim of my own perfectionism, I guess.
Best of luck with your edits, Carrie!
Thank you!
Wow, something to look forward to with my boys as they grow up… They already enjoy toilet humor a lot so it’s interesting to see how little humor evolves with age. That’s one thing that bugs me about most American comedies by the way, which are usually just gross humor. British comedies are usually more subtle and sarcastic and French comedies usually have a lot of sexual innuendos.
I agree with you on the French comedies, but I’ve seen some British comedies with a fair amount of potty humor. And I love them! The original “Death at a Funeral” movie killed me. There’s a scene with feces. That’s all I’ll say in case you haven’t seen it yet. But even still, you’re right. Their humor usually falls above the level of our American movies.
But you hang in there. Your time is coming. With boys, the flame to that kind of talk never extinguishes. Even when they’re men.
I did see that movie and it was funny but I think not the best of British comedy overall. Did you know they remade this movie in the US? The bathroom scene goes on and on and on and on. It’s amazing how a scene originally funny (and gross) turned into super gross in the US.
Good point. They did overstretch that scene in the American remake, which I didn’t care for as much as the original.
This is too funny, and a bit nervewracking for me. My son is only 7, but should I be bracing myself now?
Actually, it’s funny you posted this. On the way back from running errands, my son randomly remarked that he wondered what ‘boobs’ looked like. Then he began offering up ideas, as though if at all possible, he would create the perfect boob if it didn’t already exist.
Then my daughter got in on it, and the rest went downhill from there.
Happy to hear your edits are going swimmingly. I know exactly what you mean about worrying about your book after reading it so many times. It doesn’t sound as original and fresh to you, but I assure you, it will read beautifully to us.
Thank you for your kind words. At this point, pretty much all I get out of my manuscript are the words I’ve used too much; the adverbs I haven’t removed (come on, some have to be allowed to stay!); and whether I should leave that stinkin’ comma in or not.
And see? You have indeed started on that downward spiral in terms of appropriate conversations. Hopefully, it won’t be as heavy from your daughter, but one never knows. I’m partly to blame though. I’ve insisted on anatomically correct terms and have plied them with age-appropriate puberty books over the years. I don’t think my boys have any questions left unanswered. Luckily, they present themselves as gentleman in public. But we mothers know the truth…
My oldest enters middle school in a few short weeks. I’m afraid.
As you should be…
I only have one daughter, but I can’t wait for some of the stuff she’ll come up with in this vein. She’s already doing the “no offense” thing which I’ve tried to tell her almost certainly guarantees that she’ll be offensive. No luck so far.
Yes, I’m sure girls have their own collection of comments, maybe less crude than the boys, but I’m sure no less “endearing.” Girls are good at injecting a little attitude into their words, too.
Thanks for the comment!
But I guess that’s what happens when you’ve read something so many times it becomes a permanent stain on your retinas.
I totally understand that feeling. I’m sure you already know this, but shitty books don’t generally make it to the editing process. Yes, I know, you can show me literally shelves at B&N that would call me a liar, but I mean in general.
And while I would definitely guess that your Bible would be a tinfoil tract written in green crayon, I had no idea that you drank Guinness. I’ve actually made the Haj to the Guinness Brewery in Dublin 3 times.
And I’m sure that for a normal man’s head to look like cockpit (airplane, I mean), he would have to have been in a serious accident.
I do enjoy a dark beer, but the calorie content usually steers me to something lite. Or piss beer, in other words. “the Haj to the Guinness Brewery”–I like that. But sadly, I cannot boast a similar quest, though you’ll recall I have visited an Estonian vodka distillery.
As for my son, I’m not sure what connection he was making with that offal, but I suspect that wasn’t the point. More likely, his point was to change the conversation, get a rise out of his mother, and see his famous words find their way onto my blog. Mission accomplished. Oh, just wait until your boys are older.
Thanks for your words of encouragement on my book. It’s no literary masterpiece for sure, but my goal all along was to entice readers to turn the page. I hope I’ve accomplished at least that.
We’ll see. I think good artists are their own worst critics.
That’s probably why they cut their ears off.
No, they do that because they’re Dutch.
Ha ha–I’ll be waiting for that PT post.
Have you considered a bar of soap?
Well, I’m the one who’s always encouraged use of proper anatomical terms and dished out the age-appropriate puberty books over the years, so I guess the blame’s on me.
But while they joke around at home, they’re actually quite respectable outside the immediate family. And as parents, can we ask for anything more?
I’m thinking those funny boys might have taken after their mother in the humor department? And let’s face it, when the only concentrated levels of estrogen in the home come from the matriarch (and in my case, two felines), the female needs to adjust and learn to deal. Those sperm-drivers find humor in the strangest things…
I’ll be back. No problem there, lol.
See? A mother who knows. But it’s all good. They actually don’t talk like that all day long, and it’s only in private. Well, except for the alien butt probe thing.
Boys bring more boys. Mine don’t talk but seem to think sharing bodily noises is so out-of-line. (You’d think their parents are of the same bent–not.) Seems today’s youth is definitely a product of no-reason-not-to-be-my-most-laid-back-self-24-7. As long as that’s the worst they do…
I agree. I’d rather my sons potty talk or “rip one off” then smoke, drink, do drugs, or tell me they hate my guts or disrespect me. I’ve got fantastic kids in that regard. And again, they’re really good in public, so I’m one content momma.
As am I. Have a good one, content momma
The alien comment is funny…but I’m glad I wasn’t in your shoes right then. You have funny boys. Glad your edits are going well. I have my 2nd book out to about 5 readers right now, and as the edits come in, I’m like you. Sometimes I’m pleasantly surprised (“Why…that is an awesome suggestion!”) and others I want to beat my head against the wall (“Oh no! I can’t believe this part confused them. This will take so much time to rewrite” and I was wishing it was perfect). Agh! My sisters are on me all the time to hurry up and get it out, and I assured them I was working on it all the time and it would probably be out in August. How naive I was being. The edits tell me NOT August.
Actually, my editor was kinder on me than I am to myself. The oscillation back and forth I’m referring to is my own feelings about my writing and the book in general. Sometimes I think it’s decent and other times I think it’s crap. Self-doubt is always fun.
What’s the saying? “Not Far from the tree” Oh don’t make me look it up. Ugg…….. the things kids say. How do you keep a straight face. My guess is you couldn’t.
On another note. some time in the near future I’d like to do a link to your famous Introvert post. I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile wondering now if I should wait until your book comes out. How long do you think that will be?
You are very kind! My book is to be released in September, either on the 1st or the 15th of the month. But that’s assuming there are no delays. But feel free to link to it whenever it suits you. Thanks for thinking of me.
And yes, my boys do make me laugh, which is probably why they say some of these things; probably even more so now that it might become blog offal.
Humor is a wonderful thing and a great thing to have in a family. :+)
Septemeber well that’s exciting! I guess I’ll let you know when I get it together in some ways even though life seems to be moving fast I seem to be moving slow.
Believe me, I know all about the feeling that life is zipping by around you.
Hehehehehehe! I guess they have to get it out of their system. I think my four year old nephew’s in the gestation period — he’s done some things…said some things — oh my… I’ll keep reading your posts for information I can pass on to my sister about these issues.
Well, considering how much their father laughs at their comments, I’m suspecting it never leaves the Y-chromosome system.
I’m curious as to whether your teenager has an extremely active imagination or if he needs to have some serious sex-ed time. And possibly also some therapy — it won’t be good for his future sex life if he sees his father’s head every time he’s intimate with a lady.
Ha ha–yeah, that could really ruin the moment! But my son is well versed in human anatomy, thanks to all of the puberty books I’ve passed his way over the years. He just likes to get a rise out of his parents. And now he probaby just wants to make it onto my blog.
Tehehehehee!!
And it is at this moment in time that I say….”Thank you dear Lord for not giving me children!” haha
Yeah, I’m thinking teenage girls may suddenly not be so bad…
But there are no shortage of laughs in our house, so that’s good. And I realize my kids say these things to shock me, and maybe even now say them so that I’ll post an offal on it. At least they are very respectable in public.
Your post will undoubtedly fire Elliot’s imagination for his Monday morning haiku! And congratulations on the editing progress—seldom a fun or pleasant task but always a critical one for writing a good book. And surely you miscalculated the amount of interest. It should be far closer to 100% of us are interested!
You are very kind to even respond to this drivel. And you are also probably very grateful you do not have a teenager. As I mentioned to other commenters, perhaps I’ve done too good of a job in ensuring my children’s comfort with proper anatomical terms, not to mention an ample supply of puberty books.
The editing process could be endless–I could make changes and cut words until nothing at all remains. And I’ve never claimed to be going for a strong literary work–good lord, I’m far from that. But I only hope readers will want to turn the page and see what happens next. And ignore my “weak” words that inevitably remain.
I find that readers who aren’t writers don’t get hung up in the details that we writers fixate on and blog about “frequently.” As long as we don’t go overboard with things we’re taught to avoid, most readers will be happy as long as the story and characters keep them involved. I honestly believe good stories and characters trump minor “weak” points in writing.
I have to admit, there are advantages to not having children.
I’m not sure how I’d respond to your sons’ “creativity” and thought processes. But I do know they’re probably normal for boys that age!
My boys are indeed normal, and as always, I exaggerate the impact. But they make life interesting, and I’m happy to report, they are very polite and respectable in the real world.
I think what you say about readers who aren’t writers being true. And I suppose that’s the audience we should most heavily be seeking when the time comes.
Without wishing to sound too rude, but if Mr Rubin’s head doesn’t look like a vagina, what does your son think a vagina looks like? Or if he does look like a vagina, what attracted you to him?
It reminds me of a non-offal story. When I was a teen working a paper round, for an almost elderly couple running a paper shop (Brian and someone), some days we had to hang around and wait whilst all the papers were delivered to the shop, i.e. they were late. One time there was a display still up for something, but the balloons were shrinking giving them that wrinkly look. Someone turned to one balloon and went, “sorry Brian what was that?”, whilst we all creased up laughing. The two shop owners demanding to know what we were laughing at. I recall this “not that interesting story” purely because even now when I see a balloon beginning to wrinkle, I think “theres Brian”.
Anyhoo, glad the editing work is moving along, even if it is a bit tedious at times.
Oh, poor Brian. Don’t we all want to resemble a shrinking balloon?…
My son is highly literate on human anatomy. I have plied him with age-appropriate puberty books over the years. And I’ve always insisted on usage of proper anatomical terms, so that they wouldn’t have hang-ups about the issues when they got older. Guess I did my job a little too well, since the words flow so freely from their mouths. As for my husband’s head–it IS a little elongated, but any similarities beyond that are purely fictional on my son’s behalf.
I’m sure your husband loves the talk of his head on the blog.
I’m with you on the sex education. I would rather my lad (and any other children if we have any) are properly educated in that way (and also on contraception). If some rude words are the by product, well it is a small price to pay.
I did like Brian, although I heard he passed away some years ago. His wife I was not so keen on at the time, although in retrospect. she was just keeping everyone in line.
We do need those Mrs. Brians in the world. Otherwise there’d be chaos.
And Mr. Rubin was okay with his head being blog fodder. I checked. He’s very secure that way.
Your posts lead me to believe that I am becoming a male teenager. I don’t know what that means.
Glad the edits are going okay despite the back and forth with yourself. It will be over soon!
Thank you! All over but the crying, as they say…
And I suppose we all have a teenage boy inside of us. Otherwise we wouldn’t find these things funny. And movies like “Paul,” where I laughed until I cried. Check it out, if you haven’t seen it.
JOTS is hanging in there with you, Carrie, but….I think those kids have got to go….
They do provide useful blog fodder, however, for those days one doesn’t have time for much else.
I’m very relieved to know that your husband’s head does not, in fact, look like a vagina. Although I’m intensely curious about the thought process that prompted your son’s comment.
And I feel your pain on the editing. It’s impossible to be objective and it can be excruciating.
No thought process is required for a teenage boy. They just enjoy hearing themselves say these words, and apparently, “penis” has lost some of it’s spark. Time to move onto the next. At least I haven’t raised children that are shy to use anatomical terms. I think that’s a plus?…
I’m still laughing about the anal probe… and that’s not a sentence I ever expected to write.
You have my sympathies with the editing process. I do a surprising amount of my editing lying in bed while the entire text scrolls verbatim through my brain. Hubby has become resigned to me sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night to fix some wording that just wasn’t working.
And you’re right. It never ends. You polish every word, heave a sigh of relief, and move on. A few days/weeks/months later you read it again and start picking away…
So, true, isn’t it? About the part of it never ending. But this is my last chance. After this, the only thing remaining is the line edit which is just for any typographcial errors and such. Nerve racking!
I think you guys have a heck of a good time at your house! I imagine it is full of laughter and never a dull moment!!
Dinner conversations take on a very, very scary life of their own, that’s for sure. The only thing that keeps me sane is other mothers of boys who tell me they hear the same things. Although the vagina head may be a bit out there…
There’s for commenting on my drivel. I always enjoy bringing others down to my level.
I find you very honest and so dang funny! My friend at school (i.e. evil twin) loves to share things with me about his private parts. He sang me a song that went – “My balls, My balls…they follow me down the halls…” I stopped him there. It was hard to say that’s not really appropriate in between my lmao!
Ha ha–love the balls chant! As would my boys. And see? That evil twin is only a young child. Just wait until he’s older and he’s familiar with puberty and the whole sha-bang. No matter how smart my kids are (and they are); no matter how much strong vocabulary I taught them; no matter how many manners I’ve preached, the potty and anatomy jokes never seem to disappear.
Thanks for the warm fuzzy, by the way.
I am perplexed. A: assuming you are correct and your husband’s head DOESN’T resemble a vagina, what makes elder son think it does? Perhaps we can be glad he isn’t familiar with vaginas? and B: how do you correct his misapprehension without actually showing him images of vaginas, which seeems…really inappropriate. I guess the words, “No, it doesn’t,” could suffice.
I recently had the opportunity to clarify what the word “douche” meant to my younger teen son. They are so precious at this stage.
Re: edits, yay you! I have so much aversion to my own writing that I get cramps in my brain. I think I need medication.
“Precious”–now there’s one way to look at it…
My son knows very well what human anatomy looks like–I have provided puberty books ad nauseum, in various stages of developmental readiness. But he has apparently moved on from saying “penis” all day long to saying “vagina.” That’s what I get for encouraging using proper names for private parts…
I have come to the conclusion that editing is never completed. There is always another weak word to find or an unnecessary adjective. Tough for the Type-A minded like me.
Carrie,
I don’t know. I have been obsessed with mocking Fifty Shades of Grey lately… Tell me… I know it has a great deal to do with “vagina”, but what about “anal probes”?
Le Mulder Clown
Sorry, I haven’t read the “Grey” series and don’t intend to. But I imagine if one studies the book diligently enough, anal probing will eventually surface.
But in all seriousness, my hats off to that author. She obviously struck a chord and is now laughing all the way to the bank. Sadly, there’s no sex in my novel, only some innuendo. Guess I screwed up there.
Carrie,
No way (wo)man. Le Clown will read you, not that shady trash. Not that I have anything against it. So you win.
Le Clown
That makes me very happy. And what it lacks in sex, my book makes up for in death and disease. Lovely.
Carrie,
My kind of book! Nothing says Le Clown like misery!
Le Clown
Yes, clowning and misery do seem to have an odd, symbiotic relationship.
Your youngest is clearly well versed in the recreational activities of extraterrestrial life forms. Watching all those sci-fi movies hasn’t been in vain!
As for the teenager, well, aaaahm….so then…say, are those new manuscripts you’re working on?
By the way – good luck with the edits, sounds exciting you’re nearing completion!
Thank you.
And yes, I’m not sure what’s going on in my teenager’s head. Then again, maybe I don’t want to know…