Teens today are having too much fun

Apparently I was born 25-years too late.

I say this because of some startling information I recently stumbled upon concerning the social lives of today’s teenagers.

No, I’m not talking about hanging out at the local mall or sipping lattes at Starbucks, though I’m sure a large portion of the teen population spends more time engaged in such pursuits than -- dare I say it? -- studying.

Rather, I’m talking about a much more shocking development involving the hormone-plagued crowd, something so dangerous and controversial it may cause grown men to cry (from envy).

I’m talking about (deep breath), the BOY-GIRL SLEEPOVER.

For those parents out there who have yet to deal with zits, cell phones and speeding tickets, a boy-girl sleepover involves placing an equal number of boy teens and girl teens in one’s basement, serving enough caffeinated pop and sugary treats to power a nuclear submarine, mixing in a handful of sleeping bags, then closing the door and going to bed.

“Ha, ha,” you say, “you’ve obviously gone off the deep end! Have you been sniffing glue again?”

After blowing my nose, my response to you is this: “I’ve got it on the best authority -- the parents of teens -- that boy-girl sleepovers are all the rage in our suburban communities. An epidemic of Britney Spears-ian proportions.”

“Well, even if that is true,” you say, “I’m sure nothing really happens.”

“Helloooooo? It’s Colonel Mustard calling with your clue. And after you take that call, please come see me because I’ve got some high-flying dot-com stock I’d like to sell you.”

“Really?” you say. “How many shares?”

Come on, people, holding a boy-girl sleepover with a group of teens is like handing a flamethrower to a pyromaniac: Someone is bound to get burned.

Heck, you might as well put out condoms as party favors. They’ll come in handy during the game of naked Twister that’s certain to erupt after mom and dad retire for the evening.

I mean, duhhhhh! What possible good can come of a boy-girl sleepover? Improved communication between the teenage sexes? Yeah, they’ll all be speaking French before the night’s over. Encouraging new friendships? Yeah, they’ll be getting so friendly, half the sleeping bags will go unused.

The situation has the makings of a new reality t.v. show. Call it, “The Mating Rituals of Teenage America.” Or better yet, “How to Bed the Host Family’s Daughter.”

The true reality here is that asking teenage boys to be good under such circumstances is like asking the Detroit Tigers to hit a baseball. It’s damn near impossible.

Now some of you may be thinking -- why the cynical rant when his oldest is still a few years from reaching his terrible teens?

Well, maybe I’m just a wee bit envious.

Back when I was a teen, the closest I ever came to a boy-girl sleepover was when I had a couple buddies spend the night and one of them pulled out a bootleg copy of Playboy. Unfortunately, the party went straight downhill after that. Ie had to kick one of the guys out for suggesting we play Twister, and another excused himself after realizing he had forgotten his inhaler. That left two of us, and we spent the remainder of the night at opposite ends of the room.

Now, some 25-years later, I learn it’s acceptable to invite the opposite teenage sex to such affairs.

Which leads me to just one thought: Naked Twister anyone?

Copyright 2003 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.