LatinosUSA

My daughter is screaming so loudly that I have to put a hand over her mouth.

“What’s the matter with you?” I ask angrily, looking into her bloodshot eyes.

She just sits there and looks at me like I’m the crazy one. My brain flashes with memories of her as a baby—small, innocent, full of life, always in a good mood. Now I’m facing bold makeup, crazy outfits, and alcohol consumption. When did this happen? Why?

I work a nine-to-five job to support her wonderful habits, and she doesn’t even bother to greet me in the morning—she just screams like a lunatic. I ask her again what’s wrong, and she just looks straight through me.

That’s it. I’m cutting her off. No more money for makeup and stupid clothes, no more partying with her slutty friends—no more anything. I threaten her with all of the above, and that’s when I finally get an answer.

“Mom, I was just testing to see if you can hear me.”

I don’t know what to say. I’m stunned, petrified, in massive shock. What the hell did I do wrong? How did this child turn out like this? I tried my best, and look where it got me—at a dead end.

She blinks at me and tries to look innocent, but I know better. She’s a snake. A devious mind governs that body, and she knows all my weaknesses—but I know hers too.

So we enter negotiations: if she needs my money, then I need her cooperation. Finally, we reach an agreement—less makeup and partying, but I give her the freedom to go out three times a week.

That’s life: full of disappointment and deliberations.

Beware—Generation Alpha is a tough crowd.