Well, my youngest daughter turned thirteen last week and became an official teenager. I have survived two thirteen year old girls and I know I can survive a third but no more. When my grandchildren in the far away future turn thirteen, I will have age and wisdom on my side to help me guide my children through the parental teenage years, yeah right! All I'm going to do is stir the pot and sit back and laugh. All those times my kids thought I was out of touch and should let them stay up all night and then go to school the next morning or when their answer to 'Do you have homework?' is 'Not much, I can do it later' only to have their teacher inform me they haven't handed in anything all year. The days of 'I like my room the way it is. I know where everything is.' or 'Don't worry. If I eat this bag of chips now I'll still be hungry for dinner'. These days will be theirs to contend with and I'll sit back and see how they deal with all of it. Probably the same way I did and my mother before me and her mother before her: 'Because I said so,' or 'Wait 'til your father comes home' or 'Turn off the lights!', 'Shut the door!', 'Do you live in a barn?' and the best one of all 'You just wait until you have kids, then you'll see.' But they'll also have the joy of recieving little painted drawings, mushy kisses and big warm hugs. They'll feel the indescribable pain of seeing them cry from scraping their knee, breaking up with a boy, being teased at school and they'll hold them until they feel better. I'll sit back, like my mom and watch the joy and frustration they get from their kids and it will only make me miss the teenage years and be grateful that I even had them at all.