The Teenage Years
Because they disagreed on how to raise their child, Diana and Andrew divorced. Each blamed the other in their own way.
“Andrew never took responsibility for anything, so I had to handle everything from the moment Ethan was born,” Diana would say.
“My ex-wife never knew how to relaxshe micromanaged everything, filled her days with unnecessary tasks, and ended up miserable,” Andrew would counter.
Ethan was fourteen, living with his mother, and saw his father once a weektwo full weekends a month and every Wednesday after football practice. Though Diana and Andrew had split nearly eleven years ago, neither had remarried. Andrew lived alone in his late mothers flatshe had passed seven years earlier from a long illness.
When Ethan stayed with his father, especially this past year, Diana found some reliefthough she still worried. She couldnt call her ex-husband responsible by any stretch.
“Jokes and funthats his thing. Hes brilliant at entertainment. But building something serious? Impossible. When it was just us, everything was fine. But having a child changed everything,” she told her mother and friends.
With a baby, Andrew had been no helpno care, no chores. Diana had embraced motherhood instantly, but Andrew never quite stepped into fatherhood. Resentment festered, small complaints ballooned, and eventually, they parted ways.
That was Dianas side of the story. Andrew had his own.
“We didnt understand each other. I used to dream of having a child, showing him the world, teaching him things. But Diana turned parenthood into a nightmare of rules and fearsalways worrying about germs, diseases, dangers. I started avoiding our son just to escape her criticism. Nothing I did was ever right. So I stopped trying,” he admitted to friends, carrying the ache of feeling like a failure.
“Diana, we should divorce,” she announced one day. To his own surprise, Andrew had felt only relief.
They split amicably, agreeing Andrew would stay in Ethans life.
“Whats the point arguing with someone who wont listen? Shes always right,” hed thought.
Eleven years later, Andrew had never remarriedonce was enough. Professionally, though, he thrivedironically, thanks to his love of fun. He designed video games, and it paid well.
Diana tidied the kitchen after dinner and headed to Ethans room, irritated to find the bathroom light still on.
“Just like his father,” she muttered, ignoring the “DO NOT ENTER” sign on his door. Inside, Ethan was glued to his computer, not even glancing up.
“Ethan, turning off a light isnt hard. Youre not a child.”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
“Thirty more minutes, then homework. You *do* remember your test tomorrow?”
Half an hour later, he hadnt moved. She snapped at him to switch off the game. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his history textbook.
As she prepped soup for the next day, Diana wondered: *How long will this phase last? A year ago, he changed overnightmoody, defiant. Typical teenager. But if this goes on, Ill lose my mind.*
Saturday came, and Andrew arrived to pick Ethan up.
“Dad! Finally!” Ethan cheered, sprinting from his room.
“Did you pack your schoolbooks?” Diana pressed.
“Oh, Mum, not this again,” he groaned, slinging his bag over his shoulder and waving her off.
Andrew caught her parting words: *”Help him with mathshis grades are terrible. And dont just feed him pizza!”* The door slammed.
In the car, father and son grinned.
“Whats the plan?” Andrew asked.
“Movies, then the arcade,” Ethan said slyly. “And firstpizza!” They laughed.
Now that Ethan was older, Andrew had found a way to connect with himfriendship. But friendship doesnt just happen. It takes time, shared interests, easy conversations without lecturessomething boys his age bristle at.
“Hows school?”
“Fine, Dad. Ive got it.”
“Good. But if youre stuck, well figure it out together.”
“Honestly, its just my maths teachershes got it in for me. The only decent ones the PE coach”
When they left, Diana thought bitterly: *Of course hes happy. Andrew only reappeared when parenting got easy. The hard workhomework, chores, mealsfalls on me. He just swoops in as the fun uncle. No wonder Ethan adores him.*
“Had a blast, mate. Time to head home,” Andrew said, dropping Ethan off Sunday evening.
“Thanks, Dadbest weekend ever!”
Monday brought a parents evening. Dianas stomach knotted as Ethans teacher laid out his grades: a couple of Bs, an A in PE, the rest Cs and Ds.
“Hes bright but lazy. And he games in class.”
Humiliated, Diana stormed home. *No more laptop until those grades improve. But how? The years almost over.*
She marched into Ethans room, snatched his laptop mid-game, and carried it out.
“No games until summer. Fix your grades. How are you not ashamed?”
“Relax, Mum. You always overreact,” Ethan shot backwords that sounded just like Andrew.
She lectured him until the door slammedEthan had bolted. Frantic, she called Andrew.
“Hes run offprobably to you. Hes talked about living with you before.”
“Calm down. Well sort it.”
“Dad, I want to stay with you,” Ethan pleaded when Andrew opened his door.
“I wish you could, son. But your mum wont allow it.”
“Please dont make me go back. Ill fix my grades.”
Andrew braced for a fight with Dianabut to his shock, she barely resisted. Defeated, she agreed.
The next morning, Andrew shook Ethan awake.
“Up, lad. Breakfast, then school.”
But when he checked later, Ethan was still asleep. They rushed through toast, Andrew packed him sandwiches, and they sped off.
“Bed by ten tonight,” Andrew said. Ethan nodded.
For a week, they got on brilliantlypizza, chats, no rules. Then Andrew got a call from school: Ethan had skipped class.
“Schools cancelled, Dad,” Ethan liedrepeatedly.
Diana was livid when the teacher called.
“Your sons skipping school. Hes failing.”
She screamed at Andrew: “This is your parenting? Im taking him back!”
At Andrews flat, she stammered, “Your sonhes not even” before Ethan fled again.
Later, Dianas mum called. “Hes here. Says he cant live with you two anymore.”
Andrew soothed Diana. “We need a united front. My mum couldnt handle me either at his age. Threats wont work. Whens your holiday?”
They took Ethan campingtextbooks in tow. Diana drilled him on history; Andrew tackled maths. It worked.
Outside school on exam day, Diana and Andrew held their breath until Ethan burst out, waving his results.
“I passed!”
“Brilliant!” they cheered.
Over ice cream, Diana watched Andrew and Ethan joke together. No anger, no blamejust lightness. Andrew caught her gaze.
“See? We did it. Together, we can handle anything.”
Diana knew the past was gone. But now, they understood each other.
*Sometimes, the hardest lessons teach us the mostabout our children, and about ourselves.*
