Embarrassing your teen in front of their friends: A how-to guide

I always promised myself that when I became a mum, I would never put my kids through the same embarrassment myself and my sisters experienced at the hands of our mother.

I wouldn’t dash to the local shop with no bra beneath my T-shirt, “blissfully unaware” of the ruckus I was causing. I wouldn’t ask a guest the same question four times in a row because I wasn’t listening the first time. And I definitely wouldn’t tell my daughter’s friend when she got her period, so we could have a ‘girlie shindig’ to celebrate. I would be different.

I wasn’t different.

While I have managed to keep my boobs under wraps in the supermarket, paid attention when people visited and have thus far kept my daughter’s menstrual cycle to myself, (and not just because it hasn’t begun yet. Damn, said too much!) I have made up for it in other ways.

Here’s the thing, ladies: you don’t even have to do anything to embarrass your teen. You just have to exist. 

I found this out late last year when crouched in front of the washing machine, I noticed my daughter and three of her friends passing the kitchen door. Glancing in at me, my 12-year-old visibly cringed at my presence, hustled her three pals past the room like I was contagious and refused to speak to me for the rest of the evening. Oh, but I thought we could hang out and chat about Taylor Swift, honey! *sigh*

I soon realised a pattern was emerging during the following months.

Playing the good hostess, I popped into the sitting room to leave a tray of snacks for my 14-year-old son and his friend. Conscious that they were playing a computer game and appeared utterly engrossed, I merely smiled and left without saying a word. I closed the door to hear my son mutter “Uh, I’m so sorry about her.” Well, cheers for that.

The pattern was well and truly established at the beginning of this year.

Making my way from the car to the dry cleaners with my two eldest, we happened upon a group of kids from their school. I said a cheery “Hello!” and was surprised to realise that neither of my kids had spoken. Turning in confusion, I saw my first-born and his younger sister stalling beside some bushes before shuffling out of view. I mean, for the love of…

In some ways I pity my mother. She went to such effort to ensure maximum mortification when really, there was no need. Bra or no bra, she was my mum so she was going to humiliate me with every breath she took. If only I could have told her and saved her the hassle.