Chapter Five
Interpreting the Most Popular Teenage Phrases
Today’s adolescents are very skilled at coming up with certain phrases that they have found particularly useful in dealing with unpleasant communications with their parents. These unpleasant communications tend to be of three types:
1. When they are asked to do something that they don’t feel like doing: “Angie, would you please bring in the trash cans?”
2. When they are told “no”: “No, Jonathan, I’m sorry. It’s too late; you cannot go over to Mitch’s house.”
Or,
3. When they are being criticized: “Valerie, you kept all of us waiting; you knew when we had to leave; now we’re going to miss half an hour of the basketball game.”
The point of these teen phrases is to allow the teenager to move away from the unpleasantness now confronting them. They hope to undo your words.
“Oh. I’m sorry. What you just said has caused me to rethink what I just said. It was inconsiderate of me to ask you to bring in the trash cans. I’ll do it myself. Again, I’m very sorry for troubling you.”
Since the above rarely happens, these very useful phrases serve their true purpose, which is to move their parent off course onto a more pleasing, less stressful—for the teenager—irrelevant side issue.
A problem with these teen favorites is that they are very good. By very good I mean very clever, very effective. Teenagers are very intelligent, and, by trial and error, they are able to come up with the most useful, the most stop-you-in-your-tracks-and-make-you-crazy phrases that could possibly exist. What these statements have in common is that they all hit what are genuinely sensitive areas for parents. By their nature, they immediately make parents question whether they are doing the right thing—where only moments before they were confident in what they had just said. Again, they are very effective.
A useful rule when confronted with many such utterances is to ask yourself, When am I hearing this? If it is in response to your saying something that your teenager is not happy with, you will want to think long and hard before you pick up on it. If you are truly concerned by their words, ask at another time. But definitely not when you have just told them “no” or asked them to do some onerous chore, like cleaning the sink.
What follows is a sampling of the tried-and-true teen favorites that have successfully sidetracked parents from simple, purposeful communications into endless bickering. After each teen favorite, I will include some frequent, not-so-good parental responses, and I will present alternate responses that serve parents far better.
There are three words that when strung together can be hurtful under any circumstances but that sting the most when they are said by your child to you. They fall from your child’s mouth when you least expect it:
“Cherie, I did not like how you acted when your aunt and uncle were over yesterday. You were rude, and it was embarrassing to me.”
“You’re always criticizing me! I hate you! I wish I had any parent but you!”
This is a particularly effective teen response because nobody wants to be hated by their own child.
Well, I don’t. It’s terrible. After all I’ve done for her. After I’ve tried so hard to be a good parent. All I’ve ever done is try to give her a nice life. And now I get this. It breaks my heart.
This is where the When am I hearing this? test is mandatory. How does Cherie truly feel about her mother? Does she really hate her mother, or is she just mad at that moment because she doesn’t like being criticized? If Cherie is a typical teen, certainly there are times when she has strong negative feelings toward her mother—mainly when Cherie is not getting her way. But there are also times—when there are no points of contention between the two of them—when Cherie can allow herself to feel the fondness that is part of the still-deep attachment between herself and her mother. That is, Cherie’s feelings toward her mother vary from situation to situation. As with all teens. But the strong underlying attachment is still there.
The following is the most likely translation of this particular “I hate you.”
“It makes me feel really uncomfortable when you criticize me—especially when I know that it’s justified. How dare you say something to me that’s going to make me feel bad?”
Hence, a not-so-good parental response might be:
“How can you say that to me? I’ve always tried to do what’s best for you!”
How can Cherie say that to her mother? Obviously, very easily.
The big problem with this response is that it begs a response from Cherie.
“No, you haven’t! All you care about is having a neat house, and impressing anybody who comes over! I could be dying, for all you care!”
And Cherie and her mother are then launched into a much more pleasing—for Cherie—discussion about her mother’s flaws.
A better response would be:
“I’m sorry you’re mad at me. But the way you acted was unacceptable.”
The value of this response is that it recognizes, but does not react to, what Cherie has said and stays on the real subject: namely, that Cherie’s mother thought Cherie had acted like a jerk and wants to let her know.
“You Just Want Somebody Who’s Perfect”
When your child complains that you make him feel as if he’s not good enough for you, it’s enough to make you feel imperfect!
“Collin, I asked you to clean up the TV room, and if you did anything it’s certainly impossible to tell. Please go back and do a better job of straightening up your mess.”
“I did clean it up! You just want somebody who’s perfect!”
This is a particularly effective lament for a teenager because it immediately puts parents on the defensive. But parents shouldn’t touch it. And if they do go against my better judgment, they definitely should not say:
“That’s not true, Collin. Sometimes you just don’t do a good enough job.”
As that will only provoke:
“Yes it is true! I never can do anything good enough for you! For you, everything has to be perfect! I’m sorry I’m just human! Us humans are not always perfect!”
Unfortunately, as soon as a parent responds to the “You just want somebody who’s perfect” theme, they are immediately shifting into a discussion about whether they expect too much of their son. This, to the delight of any teen, veers away from the unpleasant request to do an adequate job of cleaning up the TV room. What teen wouldn’t rather argue with their parents about their having too many expectations?
“No, no, you expect way too much of me! I’m sorry I’m not good enough! Maybe you should adopt somebody my age and see if you can get a trade-in!”
It is far better to simply repeat:
“Collin, I need you to do a better job of picking up the TV room.”
The rules for these better parental responses are simple:
1. In your initial response, you want to talk to your teen in a respectful manner and recognize that they are not happy with what you just said. You do this no matter how nonsensical and manipulative what they have just said may be.
2. You want to stay on the subject—your subject.
3. If they persist, you want to disengage.
4. If you are truly concerned by what they say, ask them about it later, not at the time. Asking at the time only leads to trouble.
The list of favorites continues.
This, of course, is a longtime winner—useful for any request, particularly for those unpleasant situations when kids are asked to do something that involves any mental or physical effort.
“Angie, would you please bring your bike inside like I asked you to, so it won’t get rained on or stolen?”
“I don’t feel well.”
To which you do not want to respond:
“How come I’m just hearing about this when I ask you to do something?”
“But I don’t feel well. I’m not lying.”
Do you really want to get into a discussion with your teenager about whether they are sick or not? That’s an argument you will always lose.
“But I am. I’m really sick. Maybe I have tuberculosis.”
“That’s ridiculous; you don’t have tuberculosis.”
“You’re right. It’s probably not tuberculosis. I have a headache and I have these, like, pains in my back and I feel nauseous and my knee hurts too.”
A better response would be:
“I’m sorry you don’t feel well, but you still need to bring in your bike.”
“You’ll be sorry! You’ll see! I’m going to throw up all over everything!”
Recognize this?
“No, Alyssa, you may not go to the sleepover.”
“Omigod, you’re ruining my life!”
That’s a good one.
We don’t want to ruin their lives. We want them to have nice lives. We definitely don’t want them to feel that we are the main impediment to their having a happy life instead of a life that they hate. No, we don’t want them to feel that. We’re on their side. We want them to be happy. Who wants to ruin their child’s life?
“That’s not true, Alyssa. I’m sorry, but sometimes I just feel that I have to say no. I really want you to have a nice life. But, as your parent, there are some things that I just am not comfortable with. There are many things that we allow, and I know that you enjoy these things. I think you’re not being completely honest with me. I think that most of the time you like your life.”
The above response would be fine—reasonable and compassionate—except that it’s a disaster.
“No, you are so wrong! You don’t know! You don’t understand what it’s like! Anything that’s fun, you’re against! I don’t know why you’re like that! I don’t know why you do it! And you’re at me about every little thing! You really are ruining my life! I’m not just talking about sleepovers!”
Maybe we do ruin their lives—at least some of the time. Saying no. Asking them to do so many things that they do not feel like doing. Even criticizing them. But it’s what parents do.
“Alyssa, I’m not ruining your life.”
“Yes, you are! If it weren’t for you, I would have nothing to complain about! My life would be great! And you would see that nothing bad would happen except that I would be happy! Which—by the way—I’m not! Because of you!”
Again, it is better not to touch it.
“No, Alyssa, I know you want to go, but I don’t want you going on the sleepover.”
And if Alyssa’s parent does not pick up on the ruining-her-life theme, Alyssa is forced to move on to other tactics.
“But I promised Lorraine that I would go! I can’t back out on a promise! You’re the one who always says, ‘A person is no better than the strength of their word.’ I can’t break a promise! I can’t! You told me that!”
Again, as she had done frequently before, at a ridiculously late hour on a school night, Brianna wanted her father to drive her to the 24Mart to buy candy.
“For the kids at my table for lunch tomorrow. You know how on Thursdays we take turns bringing a special candy treat for each kid at our table.”
But on this night her father totally did not feel like it.
“No, I’m sorry, Brianna. It’s too late. I’m not going to do it. You’ll just have to say you weren’t able to do it. Maybe you can do it on a different day.”
“But you never do anything for me! If I ask you for a favor, you never do it! Never!”
“You never” and its twin, “You always,” are particularly effective because they are so patently untrue, you feel that you have to say something. You can’t just let it pass because it taps into a parent’s permanent need to set the record straight.
I mean, I can’t just let her say something that is so obviously untrue. And if she says it and I don’t say anything in response, then she thinks that, by my not saying anything, I’m conceding that what she’s saying is true, which it absolutely is not. So I do have to say something.
However, to touch this one results in a special kind of disaster because all teenagers have TUR—“Total Unfairness Recall”—which you cannot possibly compete with.
“No, Brianna. Actually, I usually do stuff when you ask. You know that.”
“No, you never go out of your way for me! Not once! If it’s the least bit inconvenient for you, no matter how important it is to me, you never do it! I’m like Cinderella or somebody! I just get your leftovers!”
“You know that’s not true, Brianna. Of course I do stuff for you. Especially if you really need something.”
“Uh-uh! How about the time you wouldn’t take me to the store to get highlighters for my history project? What about then? What about when you wouldn’t go back to the store when I lost my key chain? I can keep going!”
As I said, this is a discussion that you do not want to begin.
“No, I’m sorry. It’s too late. You’ll just have to figure out something else.”
“I never did get the key chain, and it was my favorite key chain! I still miss it!”
“I’m Sorry I’m Such a Disappointment to You”
This one gets to parents every time.
“Justin, how many times do I have to tell you to make sure the door to the refrigerator is closed all the way? How many times do I have to tell you?”
“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you!”
This, of course, goes along with its close relatives, “I’m sorry I’m a failure,” and the beloved, “I’m sorry I’m not like my cousin Steven.” (This one, however, does require that there is a cousin Steven who gets better grades and more regularly says “please” and “thank you.”) It is a proven winner because it strikes a chord in virtually every parent.
Every child disappoints their parents in some way, so parents feel guilty when they are thus accused. And there is always the fear that perhaps their child may be depressed, in which case their expectations—though legitimate—may be hitting their child where he or she may already be vulnerable.
I don’t know. Maybe we do demand too much of him. I haven’t thought of him as particularly depressed, but he can be moody. I certainly don’t want to do anything that will push him over the edge. He wouldn’t think about suicide, would he?
I mention here this darkest of parental worries because it lurks in the minds of most parents of teenagers. You do hear about adolescent suicide. It is a reality. And there are always stories of children where “nobody knew.” Elsewhere in this book, I discuss suicide—the risks and what you can do about them. Suffice to say that when teenagers talk about being unhappy, rare is the parent who does not experience that pang of fear for their child.
Fortunately, despite these very real issues, there are some pretty simple solutions for the day-to-day circumstances described above.
Here again you’ll want to take the When am I hearing this? test. If it is when they are not liking what you are saying, maybe you don’t want to take it too seriously. But if you do worry, then you always have the backup, which is to ask your child about it at a later, neutral time.
“Justin, do you really feel that you’re a disappointment to us?”
And maybe at that time you’ll end up in a real discussion. Justin talks—but more genuinely and not manipulatively—about how sometimes he does feel that he’s not living up to the model of a teenager that he thinks you want. Or maybe he’ll simply say,
“No, not really. I know you think I’m okay. At least about most stuff. And maybe some stuff you don’t know about.”
But to pick up on it at the time is almost certainly asking for trouble, as it knocks into oblivion the only real issue of the moment, which is Justin’s repeated failure to properly close the refrigerator door.
Hence, what not to say in response to “I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to you” would be:
“Do you really feel that we think you’re a disappointment?”
That response is a great loser because it will only result in the following comeback, delivered with a glow of triumph:
“Yes, I know I haven’t turned out the way you wanted. I know I have a lot of things wrong with me. I’m sorry I didn’t turn out good enough for you, but what am I supposed to do about it? I’m just me! And I guess that’s just not good enough. I’m sorry!”
What is he supposed to do about it? How about being more careful in the future in closing the refrigerator door?
It would be far better to simply say,
“Justin, would you please try to remember to close the refrigerator properly?”
And then no more.
And, of course, the all-time favorite: “It’s not fair!”
“No, Jonathan, I’m sorry. But you cannot go over to Mitch’s house.”
“But it’s not fair! Anything Anderson wants, it’s yes, and with me it’s always no! This is so unfair!”
This, of course, is the granddaddy of all child-parent arguments. As any parent knows, the first full sentence that human children learn is: “It’s not fair.” It is so effective because it challenges us regarding the primary rule of socialization—which all of civilization is built upon. We want very much to be fair.
“You know that’s not true, Jonathan. There’s plenty we say no to Anderson about.”
Uh-oh, now you’ve done it—you’ve made a big mistake. As I mentioned earlier, all children have Total Unfairness Recall—and they also make up stuff. What you certainly do not want to do is get into a fair-or-unfair debate with your teen. You will lose.
“Name me one time! Just one time!”
Again, it is better to stay on the subject:
“No, Jonathan. You cannot go over to Mitch’s house.”
“But when was the last time you said no to anything that Anderson wanted to do? When?”
It is good to listen to your teen. It is excellent, having heard what they have to say, to sometimes change your mind. But engage in a true fairness debate? Avoid that at all costs. As a parent, you need to accept that there will be times when you may be unfair to your child. You do try to be fair. You may not always succeed. But if you can say that, overall, you have been a reasonably nice parent, unfairness parenting errors in the service of brevity and sanity—yours—are not going to destroy your child.
“Yes they will!”
“Please, I’m under a Lot of Stress; I Really Don’t Need This Now”
“Kendra, this is the third time that I’ve had to ask you to bring the dirty glasses out of your room and into the kitchen.”
“Dad, I’m really under a lot of stress. I don’t need this now.”
You have to sympathize. You know what it’s like to be under a lot of stress. When you’re under a lot of stress, it’s hard enough to focus on what you have to focus on. It is asking too much to have to stop everything and get completely sidetracked by having to do something that there’s absolutely no reason to do because it can wait until another time—like bringing glasses into the kitchen.
This is a particularly effective and oft-used teenage ploy because it carries within it the implied and very real threat that, unless you back off immediately, they’ll let you know what stress is, all right.
“No, Kendra, I want you to do it now.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I’m really under a lot of stress now! I can’t deal with this! I can’t be in this house! I can’t stand it.” And with each word the hysteria dial gets turned up another notch. “I can’t stand it! I can’t!”
A not-so-good response might be:
“I’m sorry you’re under a lot of stress, but it really isn’t asking that much to take the glasses into the kitchen.”
“Omigod, that’s just it! You totally don’t understand! I really, really can’t take it! I am so stressed!” And she’s just warming up.
The better tactic would be:
“Kendra, please take the glasses into the kitchen.”
And then exit.
“Omigod! Omigod!”
But she’s not saying this to anybody, because you have left.
“But All the Other Kids’ Parents Let Them”
I want to know: Who are these other parents anyway?!
“No, Garrett, I read a review of A Thousand Ways to Die. I do not want you seeing it.”
“But, Mom, none of my friends’ parents have any trouble with it! Everybody else is being allowed to see it! I’ll be the only one who didn’t! The only one! You want to have a son who’s a weird outcast?”
“All the other kids’ parents” is another famous one. And for good reason. We don’t want to be so different from other parents. We don’t want to be the oddball parent who allows their extreme parenting views to separate their child from the mainstream of kids his age.
What if it’s true? I remember how sad he was in second grade when he didn’t seem to fit in and didn’t have any friends. And I’m so thankful now that things seem to be working out for him with the other kids in his grade. I certainly don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.
If it’s really nothing so bad, I don’t want him to stand out from his peers, to be on the outside because of me. But maybe he’s lying. I’ll be damned if I’m going to check with all the other parents. I’m going to stick to my guns.
“Garrett, I do not think for a minute that all your friends’ parents are letting them see A Thousand Ways to Die. I’ll bet that at least half of them don’t even know what it’s about.”
“You are so wrong! Everybody’s parents are letting them see it! Everybody’s!”
“You can’t possibly know that.”
“You don’t think so? I’ve already conducted an Internet poll of parents of kids in my grade at school!”
“That is ridiculous.”
“You think so? Come here! Look! The results of my poll: ‘Would you allow your teenage child to see A Thousand Ways to Die?’ Seventy-three respondents so far, and all say yes, they would! Not one ‘no’! So can I go?”
You do not want to get into a debate over whether the other parents are allowing it or not. This is where you would really be best sticking with what you think is right. But it can be hard, because teens will do all that they can to make you feel that you are a weird minority of one.
Perhaps a useful mantra for parents might be: I don’t know if I’m right. But I’m his parent. This is what I think. And I’m just going to have to gamble that I’m not ruining his life. Which I don’t think I am.
“No, I’m sorry, Garrett, you’re not going to see A Thousand Ways to Die.”
“But, Mom, they already think I’m a freak because of you! They feel sorry for me because of you! They’re going to stop wanting to hang around with me! You’ll see! And then what will I do?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Mom! You can’t do this! I can actually feel them moving away from me!”
“But why? Why not? Why?”
This is another holdover from earliest childhood. Yet it continues to run strong even into adolescence. This tactic gets its great strength from how easy it is to execute: they just keep saying, “Why?” or “Why not?” with an occasional, “But you didn’t give me a good reason!” thrown in. Because this has no basis whatsoever in logic, it is very effective for driving parents really quite crazy. This is the one they say as they follow you around the house and also can be called out from a distance. They know they are acting like a baby, but they don’t care.
The big mistake here—which is pretty obvious—is when you try to give answers—any answers—to the “Why?” in the hope that one of your answers will work and they will say,
“Oh, that’s why. Okay.”
The only way to deal with “Why?” once they truly start asking it is to put as much distance as you can between you and the “Why?” asker.