Recently, a study came out concluding that teenage daughters who are nagged by their mothers end up being more successful than those who are not nagged. I have a teenage daughter, but I don’t think I’m much of a nag. (My daughter might beg to differ.) In any event, the article got me thinking about my expectations for my daughter.
First, I need to clarify that my daughter is either a really good kid or the greatest con artist in the history of humankind. I don’t spend much time worrying about her becoming a teen mom or driving drunk or taking drugs or becoming romantically involved with someone on death row. Of course, it’s possible that she has me completely fooled, and that she’s out robbing banks while I’m at home writing stupid blog posts.
But I don’t think so.
Anyway, the result of my thinking is the following list of Thy Mom’s Ten Commandments. Feel free to copy, revise as necessary, post on your refrigerator, and/or carve into stone tablets. Which really seems like the least you can do given that I’m not charging you for my words of wisdom.
Thy Mom’s 10 Commandments.
- Although thy Mom prefereth that thou remaineth tattoo-free, thou shalt take a month-long timeout between the time thou decidest to get a tattoo and the time thou actually getteth a tattoo. If thou insisteth on getting a tattoo after thy timeout, thy Mom thinkest that the word “Mom” in a heart is the optimal choice. Thou shalt never, ever get a tattoo of the name of thy current girlfriend/boyfriend/gender-fluid-friend.
- Thou shalt promptly respond to texts from thy Mom inquiring about when thou shalt be coming home. And if thou shalt not be home for dinner, thou shalt let thy Mom know ASAP. Thou knowest thy Mom hates to cook. Thy Mom sayeth this for thine own good. Thou knowest that thy Mom can get cranky.
- If thou art going to engage in a perilous activity such as sky diving or bungee jumping, thou shalt not advise thy Mom of such activity in advance. Thou art 18, and therefore, thy Mom knoweth that there is nothing she can do to stop thou, but thy Mom will be frantic with worry. Thou mayest inform thy Mom of thine exploits after the fact ― but maybe not even then. Thou shalt use thy discretion in determining if and when to inform thy Mom.
- Thou shalt be particularly careful driving into/out of/through parking lots. Thou knowest that thou hath a tendency to scrape thy Mom’s chariot against inanimate objects in parking lots. Thy Mom is not amused when that happens.
- Thou shalt complete thy college applications so that thy Mom can stop stressing about it. Thou must concede that thy Mom hath demonstrated the utmost restraint about this matter even though it is Eating. Thy. Mom. Alive.
- Thou shalt not object and shall provide all necessary information when thy Mom insisteth on running a criminal background check on thy girlfriend/boyfriend/gender-fluid-friend. Thy Mom shall not abuse this right. Better yet, do not have a girlfriend/boyfriend/gender-fluid-friend that thy Mom is likely to suspect is a felon.
- Thou shalt cut thy Mom some slack when thy Mom uses the wrong pronoun when referring to one of thy friends. Thy Mom spent the better part of 5 decades with limited pronoun choices, and it’s hard for thine old Mom to learn new pronouns.
- Thou shalt bring thy f**cking water bottle home from school. Thy Mom estimateth that thy school is the repository of approximately $800 worth of thine expensive water bottles.
- Thou shalt not get annoyed with thy Mom when thy Mom asks thou to repeat something. Thou art not one with a right to complain given that thou hardly ever respondeth to thy Mom unless thy Mom is literally in thy face.
- Thou shalt take reasonable measures to oppose the policies of the insane misogynist Cheeto who will be our President, but thou shalt try to avoid situations where thy Mom shalt be required to bail thou out of jail. Also, thy Mom is thinking of forming a band called “The Insane Misogynist Cheetos.” Thou shalt be the lead vocalist. Thy Mom shalt play the tambourine.