“Uh oh,” I think. “Am I late?” A quick glance at my watch reassures me. Nope, I’m right on time.
As my daughter hops into the car, I lower the radio. “I could hear that music all the way from the sidewalk!” she exclaims. “You’re so cringey.”
Had my playlist included hits from Bruno Mars or Maroon 5, she might have been fine. But no, I was rocking out to Kansas—“Carry On My Wayward Son,” no less! I mean, how can you not crank that song to eleven? The kid was lucky I wasn’t playing air drums as well.
Lately, it seems like it takes barely anything to embarrass my 13-year-old. This wasn’t always the case. When kids are little, they adore your silliness. You’re the fun parent. I fondly recall our car rides when she was in pre-K, belting out tunes like “Under The Sea” and “I Like To Move It.” Then came that fateful day when everything shifted.
Kiki and I were at the grocery store when a Lionel Richie classic played overhead. Without realizing it, I found myself singing along—and maybe even doing a little dance.
“We’re going to… party, karamu, fiesta, for—”
“STOP THAT!”
Her reaction caught me off guard. I expected laughter, not a mortified shout.
“What? Am I making you cringe?”
“YES,” she whispered.
And just like that, the era of the fun parent came to a screeching halt. My wife experienced similar reprimands from Kiki around that time. We hit a new milestone: the moment your child starts to feel ashamed of you.
Initially, we tried to preserve our daughter’s dignity by keeping our goofy antics to a minimum in public. But as Kiki transitioned into her tween years, her self-consciousness skyrocketed, and even the slightest action from us could earn a scolding. By the time she hit her teenage years, any innocent move—whether it was smiling, blinking, or even breathing—triggered her embarrassment. Eventually, my wife and I realized we were fighting a losing battle. So, we decided to embrace our role and make embarrassing her a priority!
Hey, she certainly shamed us when she was younger. I still remember the epic tantrum at an arts festival when she was two, causing the band to stop mid-song. Or the time she yelled at a smoker outside Quiznos at age four because we had taught her that cigarettes were bad. And who could forget her singing, “Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee, lousy with virginity,” in the library at age five? Yep, we might’ve let her watch Grease a bit too early.
Now it’s our turn, and honestly, it’s a blast and so easy it feels almost unfair! All it takes is calling her by her childhood nickname, “Kiki-loo,” in front of her friends or showing up at school in sweatpants.
Just the other night, we were driving home from dinner when “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’” blasted on the radio. My wife and I couldn’t help but dance in our seats, completely in the groove.
“Stop,” Kiki grunted. Naturally, we ignored her.
I said you wanna be startin’ somethin’
You got to be startin’ somethin’
“STOP!” she insisted. We persisted.
Too high to get over, yeah yeah!
Too old to get under, yeah yeah!
You’re stuck in the middle, yeah yeah!
And the pain is thunder, yeah yeah!
“PLEASE STOP! PLEASE!” Kiki screamed as we sat at a red light, with no other cars in sight.
“Why?” I asked. “No one can see us.” But that didn’t matter; she was utterly mortified.
Just as we were about to dive into the chorus again, a car pulled up next to us. The passengers didn’t even notice our antics, but poor Kiki looked like she might burst into tears. Feeling a twinge of sympathy, I turned down the radio and we ceased our dancing.
A minute later, we parked in our driveway. Kiki stormed out without a word, still fuming, and headed toward the house. Michael Jackson continued to serenade us from the speakers. I rolled down the window.
“Don’t leave!” I called. “You’re gonna miss the best part.”
I cranked up the radio once more. My wife and I sang and clapped to the rhythm.
Mama-se mama-sa ma-ma-ku-sa!
Mama-se mama-sa ma-ma-ku-sa!
Kiki shot us a withering look, bolted inside the house, and slammed the door. But we kept singing.
If you want to dive deeper into the joys of parenting, especially during those less-than-embarrassing moments, check out this article. And for those looking for resources on pregnancy, Science Daily has some excellent insights. Plus, for a comprehensive guide on at-home options, take a look at Make A Mom.
Summary:
Navigating the teenage years is a rollercoaster, especially when it comes to embarrassing moments. From belting out classic tunes in the car to dancing like no one’s watching, parents embrace their role in mortifying their kids. As they reminisce about the days when their child adored their silliness, they find joy in turning the tables, making the most of those awkward teen moments.