Going To Be Teen For An Age

(I go to school out-of-state, and usually only come home on breaks. Not too long before Christmas, I get a letter from my hometown DMV to renew my license. I call my dad and ask him to make an appointment for me while I’m home on break. When I get home, this happens.)

Me: “Dad, when’s my DMV appointment?”

Dad: “Oh, I didn’t make one for you.”

Me: “What?!”

Dad: “They let me come in and renew it for you. Here!” *hands me a new license*

Me: “Uh, well, that wasn’t the point…”

Dad: “What do you mean?”

Me: “I wanted to replace the picture, Dad.” *shows him picture, which is of my sixteen-year-old self, in all my grumpy teenager glory*

Dad: “Well, it’s a bit old, but it still looks like you.”

Me: “Yeah, but I’ve changed, Dad.”

Dad: “How so?”

Me: “I cut my hair… I’ve lost twenty pounds doing judo… I don’t wear glasses anymore… I actually smile now…”

Dad: “But it’s still you! They’ll know it’s you!”

(Lesson learned: have Mom set these things up.)