The Dim Wit and the Teenager

My oldest daughter, Ellie, turned thirteen the day after Thanksgiving.

Ellie is a great kid who makes straight A’s in school, treats people with respect and has a great sense of humor. I’m really proud of her.

The trouble is she’s a teenager and has the same inflictions as all teens - her intelligence is increasing at a rapid pace while my brainpower is making a hasty retreat. At least that’s how she sees it.

So, it was on Ellie's thirteenth birthday that my IQ dropped ten points. So did my wife’s.

I’m told this phenomenon follows the natural order of the universe – kids grow up and the parents dumb down.

I have consulted a number of sages regarding this condition and discovered that it follows what is known in practical academic circles as the “Parental Intelligence Curve.”

The first point of this curve starts when the child is born and the line actually juts up immediately throughout the early stages of parenthood. During this period the child believes their parents’ word is the definitive law and close many arguments with their friends by making the emphatic statement “My daddy (or mama) said….”

This is the curve’s high point.

Later, when the child hits the ten to eleven year old age range, the Parental Intelligence Curve gradually begins to turn downward. Once the child’s age reaches twelve the downward slope of the curve increases. At child’s age of thirteen, the slope of the curve begins a free fall.

I’m told the curve bottoms when the child turns sixteen and starting a “U” shape recovery that turns up ever so slightly at the teen’s age of 18. The line then gradually turns upward before leveling off to its rightful slightly upward slope when the offspring reaches age 25.

Right now, I’m in the freefall stage and my lack of intelligence is showing up on a more regular basis.

One such instance was last week, when an artic blast hit North Georgia. Ellie, the teenager, started walking toward the door to leave for school. She was wearing a thin long sleeve sweater over a tank top. I assumed she was rushing and had forgotten an essential piece of clothing.

“It’s twenty-nine degrees out there, so go back and get your coat kiddo,” I said. “make sure it’s the heavy one, not that light weight sucker.”

Ellie briefly protested that we were going to be late for school, but relented when she saw I was not moving toward the door. She returned with the heavy coat, threw her purse over her shoulder and folded the coat over one arm as we left the house.

“Are you going to put the coat on,” I asked before we got into the truck.

“I’m wearing a sweater and I’m not cold yet,” she replied as she stepped into the vehicle.

I dropped my head and looked over the top of my glasses at her.

“Heaven forbid you take a pre-emptive strike against Mother Nature,” I quipped.

She then looked over at me, furrowed her brow and rolled her eyes before turning her head away. I could hear the voice in her head saying, "Whateverrrr..."

That’s the “you are so clueless look”, not to be confused with the “OMG look” where she leans her shoulders forward, drops her jaw, crinkles her nose, and slightly squints her eyes. The OMG look usually translates as “I can’t believe you won’t let me do this,” but can also mean “Seriously? You are kidding, aren’t you?”

For those of you whose teenager transformed back into a person some time back, “OMG” stands for Oh My God. My wife and I do insist that “Gosh” serve as the translation for “God” so that none of the commandments outlined by Moses are broken.

I have identified ten other body language formations indicating my loss of intelligence. They vary tremendously and seem to be multiplying. I keep Googling for material with showing comprehensive illustrations of all of these postures and their meaning, but have not located such a manuscript. Please notify me if you are aware of where one is located.

Once my daughter has finished rolling her eyes, we go pick up two other teenage girls so that I can become three times as dumb as I was when I woke up. Both of the girls we picked up were carrying their coats to the truck. Evidentially, they were not cold yet either. I didn’t bother to comment.

The girls babbled all the way to the school. I assumed they were trying to stay warm by creating friction with their gums.

Once we arrived at the middle school, they said good-bye and hopped out of the truck. I could hear my daughter’s teeth chattering from the cold as she switched arms to carry her coat.

I’m gonna turn on the air conditioner the next time North Georgia is hit with an artic blast and Ellie gets in my truck without a coat. That will invoke the frenzied “stop that you completely insane man look."

No sense in waiting three more years to hit the bottom of that curve.