I have just returned from a trip to the Wal-Marts with my eldest. My dearest, onliest eldest, my first baby, child of my heart, who, while we were there, chose a pretty scent of deodorant for herself.
I am waiting until she's asleep, and then I'm having a stiff drink or three. There may be drunken IMing. But there WILL be drinking.BTW, said eldest
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ETA: Though I suppose one shouldn't complain when one's progeny needs a little deodorant but they're voluntarily reading Shakespeare.
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My brothers and I hit puberty at around 11 or 12.
My son started to show signs of it around 10 or so.
I dunno. Must be either the cause or the product of global warming :D
Be glad about the Shakespeare. My son is wrestling with PigHamlet and it's not pretty. It's not that he doesn't like Shakespeare, it's this particular play. "All that gorgeous language wasted on an emo plot" is his summation.
I sent him a YouTube clip of "2 be or not 2 be.." in the original Klingon last night. I don't think it helped though -- the thought of emo Klingons is a bit head-splody.
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Hamlet *is* emo. It's emo as all freakin' get-out. However, if the plot annoys him soooo much that the writing is not sufficient tell him to never, ever watch the opera Tosca. Everybody dies.
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