Living with a teenager is full of surprise, just like yesterday when Mark’s daughter asked us if she could invite her friend after school. We were both at work and very happy for her to have some company.
Imagine our surprise when we came home a few hours after, dog tired after a long day, and opened the door. The cheerful laugh from the kitchen was nothing suspicious, and putting the bags away, we shouted hello before walking deeper into the house, craving coffee.
Nothing suspicious, you may say, but…
The view that greeted us made Mark turn on his heel and dash upstairs to our bedroom, and I tried to not wet myself laughing. We have two teenagers wearing only their bras and knickers, making some BaoBuns from scratch according to the YouTube recipe. The kitchen looked like a bomb site, flour was everywhere, mainly on them, and later my step-daughter explained they didn’t want to dirty their school clothes.
I brought two of my long t-shirts and asked them to dress before they gave Mark a heart attack. He was properly spooked from being in the same house with two half-naked minors. My poor man was waiting patiently upstairs all this time.
Yes, I know it was no different from being in the swimming suit, but being a father of a teenager he felt totally creeped out by this unexpected exposure. Now I have an adult talk to do to make sure our innocent 13-year-old doesn’t flash another unsuspected father with her barely covered tits.
One traumatised man is more than enough.
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