Same stepdaughter in an exchange with her mom:
Mom: “So what’s your schedule tomorrow?”
S: “I dunno.”
Mom: “Aren’t you going to the movies with your friends?”
S: “No, I’m not!” (delivered with the sort of derisive tone only a teen girl can properly construct)
Mom: “But didn’t you tell me yesterday you were going to see a movie on Monday?”
S: “I’m going to see The Last Airbender on Monday.”
Mom: “I just said that!”
S: “No, you asked if I was going with friends.”
Sister S has been a world-champion hair-splitter since she was very young. We believe she has a future as a prosecuting attorney.
I’ve been on the other end of that derisive tone. I felt like slapping the teen whose mouth it came out of. Your wife must have the patience of a saint. When Sister S grows up and becomes that prosecuting attorney, I hope she supports both you and her mom in high style. She owes you for all that hair splitting.
(MD) What I don’t get is how the deliverer gets any notion at any time that she is in any position to respond in that way. Like she’s contributed to such a high degree or has achieved some superior station that we should all bow down in deference. Our only hope for justice is if she has children of her own.
Maybe I am little slow, it has been a long time since I had teenagers, which accounts for my state of unbridled bliss, but I digress. What exactly did she mean? Movies or friends or what?
Inquiring minds and all that. Have a slug of juice on me, okay? Mom
(MD) The point is, her mom was trying to get out of her what her Monday plans were, and S wasn’t seeing past the sticky point of “with friends” well enough to simply say “Well, I am going to the movies…” but chose to argue instead. She loves to argue. It’s her favorite hobby, next to rolling her eyes, texting and listening to noise on her iPod.
It is sometimes easier to have a constructive conversation with a house plant than a teen.
(MD) At least with the house plants, they get mature.
I am not a saint and have wanted to slap the sassy out of the mouth that projects the rude comment. I was just so taken back and busy with hitting my head against the wall that I was too distracted to want to act out.
)
(Hubby) I might add the fact that you pick your battles; if you dealt with each and every one of the 3,285 sassy retorts you get every day, your hand would be stinging by mid-morning.