I live in a house filled with men and the hormones, my god, the hormones. I know women get a bad wrap for this, especially teenage girls, but I’m here to tell you that it isn’t something that just skips over boys and teenagers. And we all know grown men have their own hormonal and nonhormonal issues, as well. It can make for a shaky household and last night it blew up … not for the first time.

As I mentioned earlier, my son, J, has been working as a food runner at a chain restaurant. He’s been doing well, but he really dislikes the people he works with and says there is an atmosphere of bullying that is extremely unappealing to him from his “team members” and, of course, the patrons. As anyone who knows who has worked in food service (I am one), people suck. Restaurant patrons are often rude, condescending, shitty, dirty, messy and entitled, and along with the internal team issues he’s having, he is on the edge of quitting. Along with that, he is not the most coordinated soul, so he has had a case of the dropsies lately; at work, he spilled a pitcher of something, dropped a vat of salsa, etc., all very recently. With all of these issues aligning, it’s no surprise that he hasn’t been his best self. He also is off of his anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication completely, at his own insistence. (It’s been going pretty well so far; in fact, part of me wonders if his most recent issues have had at least a little to do with withdrawal symptoms that he’s experiencing when going on and off the medication).

I was on a business trip and got home late two nights ago. By the time I got home, he had already discussed his mood and unhappiness with his job with his dad, since the salsa incident was that night. It was over. So cue his return last night: same unhappiness, same issues with his team, same ready-to-quit attitude. This was about 8 pm last night. I made him a frozen pizza and he accidentally dropped some on the floor because he was walking around with it. Of course, my husband had to say something about it along the lines of, “Next time, you need to be more careful and not walk around the house carrying a pizza.” Not the most insightful comment considering it obviously wasn’t a good idea since he is out a pizza and has to clean it up; it’s no mystery that he should have done it differently. But, for some reason, this comment was the straw that broke the camel’s back. My 19-year-old son looked right at his dad and called him a fucking asshole. And the switch was flipped, just like that. 

His dad comes charging at him, yelling in his face about not calling him that name. In an instant, his dad changed from being a sleepy puppy dog to one of those giant gorillas you see at the zoo and think, “I wouldn’t want to piss that guy off.” I got between the two if them, both laughably taller than me, while my son continues to call him pretty filthy names. My husband smacked my son in the face … not hard, but enough to send his glasses flying. And he just kept talking smack. 

I broke it up and told them both to separate and cool off, but not before my husband started in with, “This is my house and I won’t be talked to like this and if you don’t like it, you can leave,” or some new horror to that affect. That’s when I told him to stop and said that that will not happen with our family. We are not doing that. We are not making threats like that about throwing our kids out of the house. Should my son have called my husband that? Absolutely not. Teenagers are stupid, their brains aren’t fully formed, and they certainly don’t appreciate everything their parents do for them, especially when they have good, loving, accommodating parents. Does it result in a life-changing incident where he is told to leave our home? Never. It never will. I will never allow it. 

They sat and talked after they cooled off a little. They are still mad at each other. I, as always, am the mediator, the therapist. I hate it. Only time will relieve it. This is a really uncomfortable time for everyone. Even our 16-year-old who hid out during the whole thing (smart kid) is affected. Of course he is. He texted his grandma at 10 pm last night wanting to sleep at her house (and of course I got frantic calls this morning from her asking if everyone is OK … sigh). We all are affected. Family is so hard. It’s worth it, but it is not for the weak. 

So, how was your weekend?