Teenagers in the house

How do you know you are the parent of teenagers? Here are some signs:

When you do laundry, you have no idea what socks belong to what feet.  Are those your husband's socks?  Your son's socks?  Your daughter's socks?  Your socks?  The same might apply to underwear and t-shirts.

You start getting a lot of mail.  All of it is from institutions of higher education, featuring happy glowing students sitting on gorgeous green lawns, or in classrooms looking engaged with the learning process.  None of this mail is addressed to you. Cost is not mentioned.

When your co-workers get up to go somewhere, you interrogate them.  Where are you going? How long will you be there? Who are you going with?  Don't text and drive!

You accelerate to get through a yellow light before it turns red, and then turn to your 15 year old and say, don't do this when you start driving.  She rolls her eyes at you and says whatevs, Mom.

Your grocery bill is insane. You become the person in line no one wants to be behind, because the pile of items in the cart is taller than you.   Two days later, you're back at the store because the only thing left in the fridge is mayo and an eggplant.

Your choice of car music is constantly being critiqued.

Your house does not have enough available power outlets to charge all the electronics owned by its inhabitants.  Everyone has to take turns.  Arguments between siblings start off with "That is NOT your charger!"

You have to go to the online "urban dictionary" to decipher what your teenager is telling you.

Your teenage daughter has claimed your brown dress boots for her own, and you are not getting them back. However, when your son can't find his shoes, no worries- he can wear your husband's.

Your son has told you to buy a different shampoo because he wants to start smelling like a guy. Bubble gum scent, apparently, is uncool.

Going out to eat costs a fortune because you can no longer order off the children's menu.  You could be dishonest, and claim that the younger one is still 12, but since he's taller than you, no one would actually believe it.  You have to bring your own crayons.

Your hair turned gray when your insurance agent told you how much it was going to cost to add a teenaged driver to your policy- and that was with the good student discount, the multiple driver discount, the defensive driving discount, and you crying on the phone asking for mercy.

You use the silent treatment on your kids as punishment and you're not sure they noticed.

You ask your teenagers what they need for school supplies and the answer is, I dunno, maybe some paper and a four hundred dollar calculator.

You show them movies from your own teenage years, and they roll on the floor laughing at the old technology.  War Games with Matthew Broderick.  That was high tech back in 1983.  At the same time, you're astonished by how much freedom kids had.  Sure, just go off to a high-security military area in a different state with your girlfriend, no worries!

When you tell your own parents about your struggles, they just start laughing.