The Throes of Adolescence

I am in the cinema awaiting 'Death at a Funeral' to start. Behind me a mother and teenage son sit, bickering. At least the son does. He is at that stage in life when every comment however bland or innocuous is a personal attack on all he holds dear. It would be a great personal relief to turn around and slap the little tike senseless, but hey, it's not like he's launching a personal attack on everything I hold dear or anything.

 

His mother just asked if he wants to take his shoes off. The floor is sticky, he replied. Thank God for small mercies!