September 24, 2011
Wart Remover For The Teenage Soul

It happens every six seconds.

No, I’m not talking about someone being born or diagnosed with cancer or anything like that. I’m talking about my grandson’s sister and her friends checking their cell phones for another text message from one of their other friends and texting them back. These girls can’t live without their damn cell phones. Sure, I know, the boys are doing it too, but it just doesn’t bother me the same way it bothers me when I see girls doing it. I don’t know why, it just doesn’t.

It’s become such a natural thing for these young people to have their phones out and texting or surfing the web (you know they can do that now) or playing some kind of game. Cell phones have become an extension of the young people, something that is part of them, part of their identity. Almost like a growth or something. A wart.

Maybe that’s why I don’t like seeing girls fiddling around with cell phones so much. With young men you expect to see hands that are rough around the edges, signs of imperfections here and there, dirty fingers feverishly moving to cause some kind of change in the world. It’s the mark of manliness, in a sense.

Girls just shouldn’t have warts on their hands. Girls needn’t worry so much about making a difference in the world. Girls were meant to have painted nails and pleasant handwriting. Girls were meant to be pretty.

I’m sorry to say that my grandson’s sister has become most unpretty to me as of late.

  1. shortstoriesbybradley posted this