Or is that, Getting hit by puberty?  With a pickaxe, from behind, giving me a near permanent erection.

Back me up here guys.  I remember noticing that I didn’t have one.  I had enough morning wood to heat a barn, in winter, in Alaska, while the wind blew.

We carried our coats in front of us, so not to bump people, looked for something in our book bags, and untucked overly long shirts.

We started thinking we were men b/c the hairs on our lips outnumbered the zits on our faces.  Voices dropped, muscles showed up and most importantly, we were taller than Mom, and almost looking Dad in the eye.

We were forces not to be reckoned with!

Pfft

Boys in mens clothing.

 THE TALK, 

Happened around 13.  Somewhere just before that time is seems all the girls got cured of their cooties and grew lumps and curves.

THE TALK itself was beyond strange to the point of bizarre.  See, my grandfather was a doctor, so my Dad new the medical terms for body parts.  I tried, really really hard to follow what he was saying.  It didn’t help at all that he wouldn’t look at me.  Finally,

“Are you talking about sex organs or having sex?  Or is this some kind of health class thing?”  I thought that would get him to laugh and relax so I could relax.  It didn’t, so the weirdness continued, for an HOUR.

Around 14 I heard my Mom ask Dad for a divorce.  I had to stifle a cheer b/c the love had gone away a long time ago. 

They talked and I went with Dad for a number of reasons. I was 5’ 10” 185# of just muscle (ah, those were the days) and I had developed a bad temper and fights outside the home had become common.  We moved a lot, and I was the new kid that needed testing.

 THE SECOND TALK, 

The summer I turned 16.  One day while waiting for my friends to pick me up for my first party, my Dad pulled me aside,

“Son, we need to have a talk.”

“No, that’s not what this is about.  You’re almost a man now, your big and strong and full of yourself.”

“I need to tell you 2 things.  Don’t get into a fight with a grown man, he does not have the time or inclination to fight fair and will beat you to a pulp.”  “And you friends are going to want to do things you know are wrong and they are going to want you to do it with them.  Before you do anything, I want you to stop and wonder to yourself.  What will I do to you WHEN (not if) I find out.

My Dad is 6’2” 280# only about 50 of that is table muscle.  This talk worked like a frikken charm.  More than one time I was forgiven for coming home late b/c I had decided to walk home instead of going out and doing “stuff”.

The Dadmedowns,

Boys need a Dad and a Father, not a friend.

Teen boys are not young adults.  The hormones are it’s master, and only constant discipline can keep him going to young adulthood.

Punish the greater of evils, what looks like disrespect may be actual respect in your sons’ eyes.

YOU are the first, last and only example of manhood your sons and daughters  needs, so BE the only example they need, even when you don’t want to.