My two daughters are now well into their teens, and along with all of the angst, drama, and emotions that living in a house full of women brings, I am also now routinely subjected to the ultimate test of fatherhood – the sleepover.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love that my girls are having healthy relationships and living their high-school years to their fullest – and that having friends over to our house means my wife and I know exactly where my kids are and what they are up to, but boy-oh-boy, does that parental security come with some pitfalls.

I can’t speak for boys, but I’ll go out on a limb and say that a room full of teenage girls can make enough noise to wake the dead. Seriously.  To quote Foghorn Leghorn, they make more racket than “a bunch of skeletons dancing on a tin roof”.  It’s as if they all have hearing aids – and every single one of them left the batteries to their devices at home.  One starts to say something, then another interrupts the first speaker – in a louder voice.  A third jumps into the conversation – even louder than the first two – just to be audible – and then the whole room erupts into laughter.

My eldest had a get together this past weekend to watch a new season of her favorite Netflix show.  I don’t know why it was referred to as a “viewing party”, because like seemingly everyone else from their generation – they talked through the whole thing.  Thirteen episodes.  There were only two other girls in attendance, but at times it sounded as if the trading floor of the Chicago Commodities Exchange had opened a branch office in my living room (and the price of pork bellies was in serious dispute).

This commotion is at odds with my older, more seasoned sensibilities.  As a middle-aged man, I truly treasure peace and quiet (especially at home).  For goodness sake, I’m at the age where I won’t even answer the house phone (don’t judge me – if it’s important, leave a message) and the AARP magazine has some“interesting articles”.

Remember those young and care-free days – when going to a bar and standing body-to-body, five deep just to get a drink and shouting at the person next to you in order to have a conversation was considered “having a good time”?  Yeah, that was a long time ago (I won’t say how long, but as a hint – George H.W. Bush was President and no one had ever heard of an I-phone or the internet). These days, if I’m in a tavern having a beer with a friend and a third person enters the bar and drops a coin in the jukebox, the only thing they’ll get from me is the stink-eye as I pay my tab and head for the exits.

That being said – everyone gets to have their chance at being young.  If that means shouting at the TV all evening with friends while watching their favorite show, drinking sodas and eating popcorn, then who am I to stand in the way of a good time?  I’m glad my girls are comfortable enough to socialize with their friends here at home. Besides – they are all a good bunch of kids, and at least they are talking and laughing with each other – actually interacting – instead of having their faces stuffed into some electronic device for a few hours.

This cranky,old fart can give up his tranquil domicile for one night just for that reason alone – so have at it, you noisy nellies.