I’m quite aware of how nasty and judgmental I am from time to time; OK, most of the time. Thankfully, I’m able to take a good solid look at myself and see my flaws. It doesn’t always happen right away. But eventually, I can see the error of my ways.

So, one of the prayers I pray often involves God revealing things to me: places I need to work on, sins I don’t recognize, people I need to pray for. On and on it goes.

Michelle and I also pray together and, as one would guess, we make our children a top priority. We pray for their well-being, that we would raise them right, that they would have good examples in us. We pray that God will help us to be firm but loving. On and on it goes.

Those of you with teenagers will understand what I’m about to say; teenagers seem to lose their minds around the time they turn 13. It happens gradually, over the course of that first year. By the time they are 14, it’s all over.

I’m sure there’s a medical reason. They seem to be in some type of fog. Once good listeners, they turn into “tuner-outers” when they reach their teen years. They grunt instead of saying “yes.” It’s strange, it’s frustrating and it’s downright aggravating at times. You still love them, but you want to kick them in the hind end.

I’ve said this before. I was a little naïve when the boys were little: “My boys won’t wind up that way. They will always be good listeners. They will always be kind. They will always have a work ethic. They won’t be typical teenagers.”

My boys are kind. They are good kids. But yes, they ARE teenagers. Typical teenagers.

They grunt, they fume, and they have to be told to pick up their socks about a dozen times. They wander from room to room looking for things and forget why they are there. They worry me.

Lately, I’ve noticed the words coming out my mouth toward the boys have not been kind. My words are critical. I sigh a lot. I see them asking their mother for things, afraid I’m going to sigh or complain or even yell at them.

So, naturally, I added this dilemma to my prayers. I prayed that I could be a better dad to these boys whom I sometimes do not understand. I prayed that I would not be one of those adults who shake their heads and wonder where the country is going to end up some day. I prayed that I would understand them and not say things like “They don’t know how to work hard” and “All they want to do is watch TV and play video games.”

Be very, very careful what you pray for. I kid you not; it’s as if God took me back in a time machine. All of a sudden one day, I remembered being 14 years old. It was very clear in my head. It was 1981. I was almost in high school. It was summer. I mowed yards that summer and I made darn good money.

That particular summer, we had a dry spell. For several weeks. All of a sudden, my job was on hiatus. I didn’t make money for a while. And really, I remember being OK with that. In fact, I can remember being happy the grass was dead. Was I content to lie around the house and do nothing? You bet.

I also remember being very anxious about starting high school. Appearances were important, and I recall buying a set of weights to try and build up my skinny little body so I would resemble a high-schooler instead of a junior high student.

When I bought that set, the long bar came in a big cardboard tube. I kept the tube beside my bed. Although I felt pretty lucky to have a TV in my bedroom, I must mention it was a little orange (funky orange from the 70s) black and white number with a sliding on/off switch; no remote. Angled just right, I could raise up in bed a little, pick up that cardboard tube, and switch that TV on. It was my own remote control. Now, mind you, I had to make sure the volume was adjusted and channel was set the night before, but that did not squash my ingenuity or my utilizing the cardboard tube.

If I was particularly unmotivated, I would have some type of snack food stashed near my bed and could eat breakfast after turning on the TV. I had it all figured out.

I almost used the word lazy up there. But heck, I wasn’t lazy. I knew I had to work hard to earn money. I mowed an entire neighborhood on the east side of town with a push mower, in addition to various yards all over town. It wasn’t easy work. I also raked leaves and shoveled snow. Later on, when I worked in fast food joints and in a retail store, I always knew I had to work hard and tow the line. My bosses told me I always went the extra mile. So, I don’t think I would refer to myself (at least back then) as a lazy teenager.

As my sons enter the work force and start making their own money, I’m thinking they too will understand how important a work ethic is. Even in this crazy generation where everything thinks they’re entitled to something without working for it, I think there still is a glimmer of hope for today’s youth.

Now, when I start to get aggravated because someone in my house is binge watching “The Walking Dead” or has already polished off an entire package of Oreos while playing Xbox for too long, I’m reminded suddenly of being a teenager, of growing, of being tired, of uncertainty and of just wanting to do nothing.

It doesn’t make me any more lenient, though. I still want them to get off their duffs and get busy. “Go outside! Get some exercise! Earn some money!”

However, I must say remembering my teenage years makes me a little less rough on them and maybe a tad more understanding.