Take for example piercing. No longer just for ears teens now want lips, eyebrows, noses, navels, nipples, and some things I just can't even fathom wanting to punch a needle into pierced. Earrings have even evolved or devolved as the case may be into ear plugs, or door knobs or some insanely huge heavy thing that makes the lobes droop down to your shoulders. At any rate for those teens out there who think this is so hip and they are just going to head down to the local dingy tattoo/piercing parlor and Butch (short for Butcher) is going to take their money in one hand and jab them with a 12 gauge steel needle with the other, wake up and smell the coffee. Mommy and Daddy have to sign the papers and if they don't then they can sue Butch for his needles and ink and the cost of the hardware he hooked to your face. Also Mommy and Daddy are going to make you take the infectious barb out when you get home then take you to the doctor who is sure to give you one or two needles that will do you some good. Also please note for the record if you put a hole in your ear the size of a doorknob it's going to stay there until Mommy and Daddy loan you the thousands and thousands of dollars the plastic surgery to fix it will cost. There are some things that are harder to take back than others so pay attention and if that doesn't work just try to picture your self sitting in your rocking chair on the front porch of the rest home with your great grandchild cradled in your ear lobe holes sucking on the ball of your lip ring like a pacifier while watching the light twinkle off the studs lining your eyebrows and the cannon ball shining in your left nostril. Pleasant huh?
Next up that glowing beacon of freedom, the license! Sorry kiddies that too is at the discretion of your loving parents. You remember them right? They are the people who pay for the house you live in, the food you eat, and the clothes on your back. Yeah that's them the old people you tell how much you hate them three or four times a day. Well guess who has to sign the papers before the Department of Transportation will allow you to take the test for your license. Oh wait, I believe you have to have a permit and some driving lessons before that. Guess who is responsible for signing the papers for that stuff too. Kind of tough if you kill us in our sleep. And just suppose you have a few good days and you're nice and do your homework and even your chores. Let's just say for arguments sake you even cleaned your room and put your laundry in the hamper,Wholesale Earring. We may let you get the permit or the license. Everything is copasetic in your little teenaged brain; you manipulated your way into being a legal driver and you're safe to go back to your defiant ways. Problem. You need wheels. Where do you suppose you're going to get those? No Virginia there really isn't a car fairy. At least not one that doesn't look like those people generally referred to around town as your parents.
This brings us to our next little fence. Mom and Dad, you remember them, you hate them, you want to kill them while they sleep, you don't need their help, you know more than they do, those people have offered you one slightly used but in extremely good condition four door sedan that they have recently replaced. Let me give you some more friendly advice. Ninety-nine percent of teens do not get a fire engine red Mustang as a gift the day they get their license. You my dear are no exception. You should take the sedan and count yourself lucky that you won't be working 20 hours a week for minimum wage while going to school only to sink every cent into the purchase of what used to be a muscle car that needs thousands of dollars of work before it will pass inspection. And another thing, the car is not actually yours. It's yours to use at the DISCRETION of your parents who own it. This means you cannot take it down to the local Ford dealer and trade it on that mustang you desire. As a matter of fact, the dealer will be calling mommy and daddy looking for…you guessed it…signatures.
Moving on. Once you have your piece of paper with your pretty picture on it and a set of wheels to ride around on there is one more tiny monetary matter. Tiny, like $3000 worth of tiny, pocket change really. It's called insurance and it costs $3000 a year for a teenager. Lets see, with school, home work, part time job making minimum wage, car that needs gas and maintenance…seems to me your life just got quite a bit more complicated not to mention expensive. Seems to me you're going to need a little help, maybe a lot of help.
In short boys and girls it is my solemn duty as one of those people they call parents to bring these things to your attention. It is my duty to remind you that the reason you have parents is because you need them. It's a time-tested fact. Children are born without the ability or know-how to take care of themselves. General consensus, in fact legal consensus is that you will not be capable enough or smart enough to even attempt such a feat until you are eighteen. Until that special long awaited day arrives you have the right to remain silent and do as you're told and maybe, just maybe you'll be rewarded for making life with you bearable.
The best advice I or any other responsible adult can give you is to sit back and enjoy the ride. Once you start being responsible it never ends it only gets deeper. If you are lucky enough to have parents that are capable of affording you a privileged childhood be smart enough to take advantage of it.
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