Fifteen

In two and a half short weeks my daughter will turn 15.

Fifteen.

That sounds like a solidly established teenager, doesn’t it?  And she is.

This makes me the mother of a solidly established teenager, and also means that I was 15 a very long time ago.

Many things have changed in the intervening years. My generally topography, lots of technology things, and apparently the way we do math.

When I was 15, which was in 1982-1983 (which I swear still doesn’t seem like it could possibly be all THAT long ago):

  • The first CDs (compact discs, not the investment kind) were released in Germany
  • The Tylenol tampering situation led to the first seals on medicine bottles
  • Thriller was released – and we saw the zombie dance for the first time ever
  • The first artificial heart was put into a human
  • The Toyota Camry was introduced for the first time
  • IBM released the IBM PC XT
  • The Space Shuttle Challenger launched for the first time
  • Return of the Jedi opened in theaters

I didn’t have my own (corded, with no caller ID or anything like that) phone until I was 16.  It was installed against my wishes because my parents were SURE I would have a social life if only I had my own phone. It didn’t work (the phone did…just not the social life part.)

She’s had a cell phone since she was 7. However, I am fairly sure she has never actually made a phone call on purpose in her entire life.

We watched TV shows when they were on.  I can’t remember when we first got a VCR, but I am sure we didn’t use it unless there was a national event of some kind anyway.  There were only 7 channels to stay on top of.

She has terrifying compulsion to watch All. Of. The. Shows. on Netflix and Hulu +.

I might have had a Walkman. I would have listened to tapes that I made from the radio – sitting in front of it with my tape recorder hoping against hope that the DJ wouldn’t talk after the song started.

She has hundreds of pristine songs on various devices and a set of headphones permanently affixed to her head.

I was, let’s just say, not the coolest kid.

She might be.

About Kristen

Me: Kristen, more than 40-something (don't make me face the number), suburban mom of 2, working girl, therapeutic writer, proprietor of an emptying nest Addictions: Iced Coffee, FOMO resulting in twitchy compulsion to check FB/Instagram/Pinterest in an unending loop, texting, hugging my one child while Snapchatting the other and yelling at my dog

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