What the kids are talking about

I'm not what you'd call a "kid person." You know, I like having my nephew and niece over, but I also like sending them home when the day is over.

That being said, I find it pretty fascinating to listen to what kids have to say.

Recently, I got to overhear a couple of teenage conversations: one from my living room at 4 a.m. (I'll get to that in a moment), and one while sitting at the local library.

First, the 4 a.m. incident. This happened a few weeks ago. I awoke from a dead sleep to hear voices. Not from inside my apartment. Outside somewhere. Curious, confused, and a little angry, I got up and made my way to my living room. The voices grew louder. Once I got my brain to start working, I realized the voices were coming from the front porch of the house next door. And, it wasn't just a conversation going on, it was a group rap.

Yes, there were teenagers rapping next door. At 4 o'clock in the morning. Typical "I'm the toughest around" kind of stuff. I imagine the kids were drunk or high or both. Honestly, why else would a teenager be awake at 4?

Anyway, they rapped. And, in between raps, the kids, all males, began talking. Because of the content of their raps, I expected some pretty tough discussion. But, instead, I was treated to a very funny exchange about how one of the kids was no longer scared of his sister.

"You still scared?" one voice asked.

"Nawh, nawh, I ain't scared of my sister anymore," another voice boasted. 

I expected laughter. But, this wasn't supposed to be funny.

His companions, like a support group, gave compassionate "Mmmm"s and a few "all right"s.

Standing in the dark, I couldn't help but laugh. This was a conversation the dorky guy next door wasn't supposed to hear.

And, now the dorky guy has gone and wrote about it online.

The second teenage conversation, the library one, involved three young women trying, from what I could see, to do homework. For whatever reason, though, they decided calling people on their cell phones and leaving fart noise voicemail was more pressing.

Did I mention that this was in the LIBRARY? Where sound TRAVELS very easily?

Okay.

So, they sat around and make mouth farts for several minutes into their phones. This was entertaining enough (and, might I add, very ladylike. Take note, Miss Manners!). But, they weren't through.

After, I can only assume, they had vibrated their lips to the point of numbness, one began to talk about a dream she had.

"I had the weirdest dream," she began. "My Dad brought home all these snow crabs for dinner. Live snow crabs. And we tried to cook them. But, they wouldn't die and they kept trying to bite me. We couldn't eat them. And they were really dirty."

Well, if this isn't some sort of subconscious "fear of parent," or "fear of sex," then I'm not a certified speculator!

The thing is, though, after the girl told the story of the crab dream, it was completely dropped. There wasn't even a "that's weird" or "maybe you should get that checked out" from the others. Like a television flipping channels, there was no time to analyze. Only to move on.

So, they did. The rest of the time I was there, the girls more or less made fun of people. About how poorly someone in their class was dressed. About how stupid someone else was. About how stupid they each were. Typical teenage stuff.

Not being scared of sisters. Fart voicemail. Dirty crabs from fathers.

This is why I like giving children back to their parents at the end of the day.