72-hour Dedorant and Other Roasts From My Teenager
I'm old. There I said it. It doesn't sting like I thought it would. This is likely due to the regularly received humbling of living with a teenager in 2026.
MILLENNIALMOTHERHOOD
The Feral Millennial
5/25/20263 min read
There I was just unpacking my Walmart haul and minding my business when I heard it. “MOM, 72-hour deodorant, huh? Dang must be rough.” I set down the bottle of ibuprofen I’d just taken out of the flimsy plastic bag, looked around at my groceries, and finally met his gaze. Yup, it was one of my more geriatric hauls to date complete with anti-inflammatory meds for all the aches, 75,000-hour deodorant, organic dates, and ground flaxseed. He held it up and said, “One swipe a week huh?”, and we both busted out laughing. In that moment it all melted away – the perimenopause aches and hot flashes, the worries of adulting, and the hurried feeling of having to do all the tasks in record speed.
This funny little incident got me thinking – is it really all that serious? There I was in an apparent race against myself to finish unloading the groceries to hurriedly start the next task on the to-do list. I almost missed this entire interaction because I was so busy and distracted. The endless to-dos feel daunting and downright depressing. Just a few short years ago, time seemed slower. We made time for family game nights, movie nights, and other silly fun. Has time truly sped up, or have my priorities shifted away from what’s truly important? Sadly, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter.
So, in the spirit of recognizing this and owning up to the fact that I am a far from perfect mother, I’ve decided to celebrate a few of my shortcomings in hopes that you can find peace with this too, lol.
The one time I ever got tipsy in front of my teenager still lives in infamy and apparently will always be labeled “The Time Mom Trauma Dumped”.
I got an email that my son had three tardies this semester. Yeah, he doesn’t drive yet…so there’s that. His response, “Yeah, Mom I saw the email about your tardies – better tighten up”.
One morning my son walked out of the door with a bowl of cereal in hand – no hot cooked breakfast here. His response, “When I drive, I’m probably going to grab breakfast at the Waffle House on my way out.”
I tried learning SnapChat solely to have my son text me back EXPEDITIOUSLY as regular old texts go unread for some reason. Ultimately, I deactivated the account because I was so afraid I’d somehow Snap something incorrectly.
This list could get real lengthy real fast, and damn it, that’s ok. I think we sometimes forget we are going through this life for the first time ourselves. I’ve never been a 40-year-old mom of a teenager before, so certainly I will have my fair share of missteps.
I will end with this funny moment. For Mother’s Day this past month, my sweet teenager purchased me a gift with his own hard-earned money. He and his dad (my much better half) set out on a great shopping adventure and after scouring all the stores they could think of, he found the perfect gift. He handed me the cutest card labeled “The Momma” and a sweet blue paisley giftbag. He prefaced the gift with this, “Mom, I looked ALL OVER. I couldn’t find any jewelry for you. It was all too fancy and nothing you’d ever wear. I thought of pajamas, but you have enough of those, so I got you this instead!”. Inside was a true treasure, y’all – A hand-held, chargeable via C-port, MASSAGE GUN. He said, “We thought of you and all your pulled muscles when we saw this. You can use this with the TENS unit.” The pride in his face was the biggest gift of all. And my glimpse of his view of me – a plain, not fancy mom with lots of old-lady muscle aches, really made me giggle!
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