In working with teenagers for 19 of my 40 years, one phenomena stands out; I possess incredible insight about myself, told to me from teens:
I'm not a good shaver, the hair on my forehead is disappearing, I make a strange "hmm, hmm" coughing noise with my throat, my knees are knobby, I'm "WAY TOO OLD" to be wearing those short, slit-on-the-side running shorts that I used to really like, I'm too mean, too soft, too critical of others. There are more.
But, when the teenagers I'm "working" with are kin, it gets really brutal... for me.
To make matters worse, the poison ivy break-out that started several day ago swung into full-force. As a result, I've been battling oozing sores on my arms, neck and upper lip. Yes, upper lip.
Trying to 1) compensate for my itchiness and horrid appearance, and 2) convince my daughter of my COOLNESS after having read her aforementioned blog, I rattled off to her some of my more insignificant accomplishments:
1. Yesterday, I successfully completed three years of law school.
2. I can state with some credibility that I'm a good husband and a good father.
3. I can also say that it is no longer a stretch to say that I've entered the ranks of being an ultra-runner.
Her response... "I'm not the one with the yellow stuff on my upper lip!"