Lately Cheyenne and I have been arriving at her school in the morning at the same time as one of her friends and her father. We both pull up to the curb to let off our respective offspring. Cheyenne gets out grabs her stuff, on a rare day may mutter a hurried “bye”, and slams the door behind her. Her friend gets out of the car walks around to the driver’s side where her father gets out, hugs her father, and heads on her way.
After having observed the differences between these two departures for a couple of days I commented to Cheyenne about it. Here is how that went.
Me: See how your friend hugs her dad every day when he drops her off right out there where everyone can see her?
Me: You don’t hug me every day.
Me: How come your friend isn’t embarrassed to hug her dad like that in the front of the school?
Cheyenne: She doesn’t want to do that – her dad makes her. That is part of their culture.
Me: It can be part of our culture.
Cheyenne: Uggh – no.
Me: Why are you embarrassed to hug your mother in front of the school?
Cheyenne: I am not going to hug you in front of the school. That is just awkward. This is high school!
Me: Do you want me to get out and come around to your side to make it easier for you to hug me?
Cheyenne: No thank you.
Me: Are you sure?
Cheyenne: YES…I’m sure!
Me: Do you want to come around to my side?
Cheyenne: Do you want me to hug you?
Me: Oh no, never mind.
Such is life with a teenager…well at least my teenager. There will be no hugs for me at the daily drop off. I’ll just have to hang on to the occasional “bye” – apparently that is our culture.
Day one thousand two hundred and twenty-three of the new forty – obla di obla da