Growing up, my mom was always saying, “There’s nothing new under the sun.”

I have visceral memories of being annoyed by that. I can feel my eyes rolling even now.

What does that even mean?

My 17-year old son hates it when I ask questions. I’m just trying to get information, I say. He experiences them as an inquisition. It’s an ongoing battle.

Part of turning 50 has involved nesting and purging. I don’t want the boys to have mountains of my old sh** to sort through some day.

In that process, I found one of my childhood journals. It’s totally 80s. The Sanrio characters, “Little Twin Stars” are on the front and the pages are filled with my (completely justified) ramblings, jumping from 1984 to 1988.

Lo and behold, at the end of one of my entries, teen Monica wrote:

“When I came home from the movies, my mom kept asking me all these stupid questions. I can’t stand it when she does that!!!”

Turns out she was right.

There’s nothing new under the sun.

Teenagers hate questions.

𝙒𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙥𝙨!

Sorry, Mom.

And sorry, kid!