Fifteen-Year-Old-Boys
If you have raised a teenager, you should relate to this story. If you have been a single parent of a teenage boy, I hope this comes across as a cry for sympathy.
I knew my son was gifted early on in his life. At the age of six, he had to write a complete sentence about faith for his Sunday School lesson. My mental giant wrote: Christians only have one wife, and it's called monotony.
When he was in elementary school, I used an improvised technique to teach him about economics. I used his Halloween candy to make a point about taxes. When we got home from trick-or-treating, I confiscated a third of his candy, and justified the theft by saying this is what the government does to my yearly earnings every year."
If you have survived an adolescent child, you are familiar with the pitfalls and minefields embedded in your relationship. And I hope you also learned, as I did, that it's risky business to challenge kids with half-baked life lessons. My moment of revelation came when I challenged his outlook on life. It began something like this, right after he complained about the hardships of childhood which usually had to do with his household chores and yardwork: "Son, when Abraham Lincoln was your age, he had a job and he walked five miles to school." I thought I had made a strong point; that is, until he came back with, "When Lincoln was your age, he was President."
On his thirteenth birthday, his sister made an announcement at the supper table. "Dad, Billy has puberty!" It was as if puberty was a virus that had caused his voice to crack and his sweat to stink. This was the year that I had one of my father-son talks. I sat him down and said, "Son, you've got to stop eating all the food in the house. Your sister is getting so skinny she could fly away like a balloon in a stiff breeze."
Last summer, the start of my son's fifteenth year, was a trial for me. It was so trying that I lobbied for year-round school. Every father needs a hobby. Fifteen-year-old boys know everything. They are so well informed, I wonder why we need to send them to school in the first place. What else is there for these brainiacs to learn in school?
My son used to hit me up for money. One day, at the mall, he dragged me into a ritzy shoe store and held up a pair of gym shoes. He said, "Dad, I really want these running shoes, and they're only a hundred bucks."
Don't you love it when your dependent son uses the word "only" when he's talking about money? So, I figured this would be as good a time as any to teach him the difference between wants and needs. So I said, "Back up the truck, yard boy. You say you want these shoes, but no one needs a pair of hundred-dollar gym shoes. I have forty bucks for shoes, so what you need is sixty bucks."
He rolled his eyes, a facial gesture he had mastered.
Life with my son ratcheted up several notches that year when he made an announcement. "Dad, next year I'll get my driver's license."
That factoid would keep me awake for days on end.
Then he went on. "So, I'll need a new truck when I turn sixteen."
I rolled my eyes just for payback. "Did you just say you'll need a new truck?"
"Uh-huh."
"What about a used truck?"
"Dad, I don't want to drive a junker."
"What's wrong with a junker? I drove many junkers before I owned a new car."
"You did?"
Ah, I thought I'd made some headway, so I dragged out an old family album and showed him the picture of my first car--a 1964 VW faded-yellow Bug with a dented fender.
He looked at it for a spell before he asked, "What did it have under the hood?"
"A tire," I said, and almost laughed before I remembered the cardinal rule when it comes to parenting teenagers of either sex: Never laugh at what they say. So, I continued with a deadpan expression. "It had a tiny engine in the trunk with just enough power to run through a headwind. If you were able to get it up to fifty-five miles per hour, and you turned on the radio, your speed dropped to forty-five."
"Come on, Dad. Get real."
"I'm serious. And driving a beater has many advantages. First of all, you don't have to worry about someone stealing your car, and driving one makes it easy to merge with traffic. Other drivers will make room for you when they see the bungee cord attached to your bumper. VW Bugs were great cars and unique in many ways, besides their insect appearance. Most cars have a defrosting system. In a Bug you have your breath and a rag. Most cars have central heat, but not those vehicles. Their heaters would burn the hair off your ankles, and your passenger in the back will freeze to death. Burn victims up front, frostbit riders in the back."
My son has always been a critical thinker. When he was twelve, we were driving to his baseball practice when he asked me one of those head-shaking questions: "Dad, does God know what I'll be when I get big?"
I said, "Yeah, I believe God has a plan for us all."
My son said, "Okay," and we drove a few blocks before he asked, "Dad, is there paper in Heaven?"
I said, "I guess so, if there's a need, God will provide paper."
He said "Okay," and I continued to drive as I wondered what in the world was going on in his head.
"What's on your mind, son?"
"I dunno. I was just thinking, if someone came to my school and killed me, and I went to Heaven, would God be able to write down all the things I would have done if I hadn't been shot?"
I had to pull onto the shoulder of the road. And when I hugged him, I realized I was the only one crying. He had been okay with the conversation.
I apologized for what I perceived as a show of weakness.
Then he said, "It's okay, Dad. I know you love me."
His words hit me like a head-on collision, and they exposed one of my major faults. I often get angry and frustrated by what I perceive to be injustices, and by the sickness and disease in my circle of friends and relatives. I still have that fault, and I still get miffed from time to time; but when I do, I remember my son's words. "It's okay, Dad. I know you love me."
And each time my anger raises its ugly head, it highlights one of the great revelations of life. Christianity blows me away by its simplicity, how the Gospel boils down to three words: Love, Grace, and Faith. I'm constantly amazed that I'm forgiven, what with me being an imperfect man--a man whose son forgave him on the side of the road.
My son has always been my rock when it comes to love and forgiveness. He, like God, doesn't expect me to be perfect, just present. And like God, he just wants me to know that he loves me and forgives my shortcomings.
© Copyright 2025 Nathan B. Childs. All rights reserved.
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Hey, Nathan - I can sympthize/empathize with your situation. Those years of fifteen-year-old sons are long behind me now, but I remember! I got a charge over the lad ASSUMING he'd be driving, and that, of course, Dad would be buying him a car. A right rather than a privilege. Yes, those were the days. But despite the trials and tribulations of dealing with teenagers, there was always the love, which you poignantly pointed out. My sons, full-grown now, may not have expressed it then the way your son did, but they now let me know how they appreciate what their old man went through! A nice piece, gater. Humor through sentimental eyes.
Take care,
Jack
I too sympathize with you Nathan. I have a twelve year old going on twenty and well understand where you're at. Just remember, you're the only dad your son has, so whatever decision you make, he has no expectation for you other than to remain your son. Until our children have to work for their money, they will never understand the effort expended to earn that dollar. You're doing good because you are teaching him values. Good story.
Philisha
HI Nathan. Sorry I am kind of slow at getting to you this morning (afternoon) but I have been trying since 7 a.m. to get my work posted on TNBW.
Here we go: Fifteen-Year-Old Boys
Being a parent, (or a grand-parent) is taxing to say the least!
This is awesome! … I became a lobbyist for year-round school.
Ah yes….. He said, "Dad, I really want these shoes, and they're only a hundred bucks.
Nathan, the way the ways of the world are changing, soon ALL of the teens will buy whatever they want by using the plastic you were forced to supply because they will be doing of their purchasing on line. Horrors.
All too familiar: He rolled his eyes, a facial gesture he's mastered.
Hey Nathan, if you tried that today, he could have you arrested. I confiscated a third of his candy, and justified my action by saying this is what the government does to my yearly earnings."
No moss growing on your brain my man: "Son, you've got to stop eating all the food in the house. Your sister is getting so skinny she could fly away in a stiff breeze, like a kite."
Perfect: But things ratcheted up several notches in my son's fifteen year. Apparently he thought this would be a good time for a son-father talk.
It gets even worse when the grandchildren come after you, with the ….I need a new car.
Funny how they never called our vehicles junkers when they totally had no option.
Perfect: Ah, I thought I'd made headway, so I dragged out an old family album and showed him the picture of my first car--a 1964 VW faded-yellow Bug with a dented fender.
The conversation is funny, gentle, and tooooo real.
Way to go: ….You don't have to worry about anyone stealing it, and it makes it easy to merge with traffic.
I like the conversation that led to this: "What's on your mind, son?"
Ah Nathan, this is perfect: Then he said, "It's okay, Dad. I know you love me."
It`s not a fault Nat. I still have that fault. I still get angry from time to time`…
Faith is a great healer. This is a beautiful story Nathan. And there is nothing that can replace love.
Hugs and love.
Oh my, this was so beautiful, Nathan. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. His comment actually shows us that kids are affected by the rotten things in this world. In our day it was the threat of nuclear war that used to leave us unsettled. For kids today I think the possibility of a school shooting is what terrifies them (and their parents), and what's worse is the likelihood is far greater.
But back to your humor - love the need/want stuff. We used to say to our kids, whenever they begged for something in the store, "You want it, but you don't need it." Well, they pretty quickly switched to "Mom, I need these legos." And we are still paying the price - my daughter has so many "needs' we can't keep track. :)
I did catch a few typos:
shoe store and h(eld) up a pair of gym shoes
It was (as) if puberty was a virus
Oh, your IRS bit brings back memories. At Halloween, my parents always collected "parent tax."
Thanks Nathan. As always, I love your writing!
Dear Nathan:
This is a wonderful story. Well, it's not a story really, but not either an essay. It's a poem. I can feel, even touch, your desire to be a wonderful father and always be there for your kid. And I can also feel and even touch that your kid is a kid and he needs in turn to grow up and turn into a man. Such a a wonderful painting in such few words!
Are we children that way? I have no children, but I've just discovered that, in many ways, I'm still like your 15 yo son in my relationship with my parents (I'm 24 BTW). It's amazing.
Wonderful story!
Kiss,
Gacela
Good Afternoon Nathan.
I don't have children, but I don't think I need to have one in order to get the beautiful universal message in this short. In fact, it works perfectly when I apply it to a very different situation of my own. That, my friend, is what takes a piece from good, to exceptional. And this one is certainly that.
Really nice job. I enjoyed it from start to finish.
Take care
LeeAnn
Hi Nathan,
I enjoyed this much. Aside from the other benefits, our kids do provide us with grist for the old writer's mill, don't they?
Strictly from the writing point of view, it's witty, warm, genuine and entertaining. Fine and listenable narrative voice, gets and holds our attention, and makes its point convincingly to those who already have a penchant to believe (it will not, of course, convert the godless heathen, but that is not your intention, I'm sure).
Structurally I think it could be stronger. You start with the boy at 15 and the funny lecture on want and need; then the slight (and again funny) shift to the son at 13 and puberty; then back to the 15 year old and the truck; then to the 12 year old; and finish with the moral of the story.
It might be better to drop the 13 year old material to keep the focus on the 15 year old and those amusing (but frustrating) attitudes; then transition to the 12 year old and the ride in perhaps your old truck (to tie it into the truck conversation); and finish after the 'moral' with a final (amusing) reference to the current son, 15 and challenging, but perhaps that too is a way God helps you keep on your toes--who better than a 15 year old boy to work His mysterious ways?
I hope you're working on a book of this material. I think it would be a nice read and find a market, too.
Paul
I am not a Christian, but I appreciate the warmth and gentleness with which your story professes your faith.
I have a couple questions. You ended the conversation about owning a new truck versus an old junker without bringing it to a true conclusion. You've explained the benefits of the junker and -- then you're done. In the discussion about the "gym shoes", you explained the difference between need and want, and finished it by explaining that what he "needed" was $60. I was waiting for you to finish the new truck discussion by saying he needed $35K and thast's why he needed to work hard in school and go to college so he could get a job that would provide him with that money. Since your story was about the life lessons fathers teach sons and sons teach fathers, I think you missed an opportunity to bring this lesson to a satisfactory conclusion.
I also found the jump from his fifteen-year-old truck discussion backwards to a twelve-year-old moment a bit jarring. I think you needed some kind of buffer between the two, a segue that told the reader you were moving from a light-hearted vein into the meat of your essay. Something like "God provided me with a fifteen-year-old's enlightened world view to keep me humble and encourage me to keep in mind what is most important. I remember a time when he was twelve, and he asked me one of those questions that crosses your eyes." And so on -
Otherwise, I found your story gently humorous. It stands as proof of your love for your son and his love for you. Now, that's an accomplishment!
I thought this was a particular effective piece from the standpoint of conveying the trials and tribulations of raising a son and showing how we seem to learn from our children every bit as much as they learn from us.
The Lincoln reference and the bungee/bumper reference were quite funny.
I feel like a dope for not fully understanding what the father's blunder was... you write: "I often get angry and frustrated by what I perceive to be injustices done to me or by the sickness and disease in my extended family of friends and relatives." I guess I didn't sense any anger or frustration exactly in him when he cried for what I gathered were thoughts of his son being killed... I mostly felt his love for his son coming through in his tears...And it seemed like the son felt that love too, based on his response... It almost feels like you are saying "I often get weak when I perceive..."... but I viewed his ability to talk to his son this way and his emotions too as strengths.
I think your essay does what it seems good essays do, makes us think in ways that are productive and positive,
Hapideo.
Hello Nathan,
Loved this story--the character development and how it unfolded to climax into a "truth."
Many can identify with the story and conversations. I can't think of anything to improve it.
I think that you should write more stories in this genre.
Loved the humor and interaction between the father and son.
Author
Reply
Hey spirit iof aloha. Thanks for checking this out, and for your encouragement. I'm glad you got a kick out of it. You might get a kick out of Fractured Sex Education, too.
take care,
Nathan
Christians only have one wife, and it's called monotony. — Ha! The kid’s prescient.
"When Lincoln was your age, he was President." — Bam! Drop the mic.
Awww, how poignant. It’s obvious you’re a sensitive guy. Your kids are lucky to have you. I’d like to read a mom story too sometime.
Though I'm not a religious guy, there are precepts that are simply common sense and basic kindness. Do unto others... is a guiding light.
Author
Reply
Hey again, whatta, and thanks for reading some of my stories
Without readers, we writers are nothing more than egocentric journalers.
I couldn't be more pleased to get your reviews, because you write well and you have something to say.
later gater
jack the knife