Our last family vaycay with our boys was when they were 15 and 13 years old. It was bad enough for them at home when we drove them to a baseball game or show. As soon as they spotted a friend on the sidewalk, they’d cover their eyes and shrink down in the back seat like vampires who just saw light. Their friends didn’t have parents. So no one could know they did, especially parents like us who enjoyed talking with their friends and asked them questions. Noooo!
But that fateful week when we drove down to Ocean Beach, Md., and stayed in a rollicking motel with teenage girls who laughed and frolicked and swam in itsy-bitsies, spraying their pheromones around like cute little skunks, well, that was the end of it.
Join the Conversation
Send your thoughts and reactions to our online Letters to the Editor column. Learn more here