Loss of Wi-Fi sends kids hurtling back into Dark Ages

I like to think I’m in control of this parenting thing.

But clearly I’m out of my depth 99.9 percent of the time. I’m not sure how they do it but every teen knows exactly what buttons to push to get the reaction they want from us.

They watch us and prey on our weaknesses.

Every now and again, you have to dig your heels in the dirt and remind them that they actually need us for one thing or another.

It’s important to have a clear chain of command.

“I’m big, you’re little.”

“You’re the kid, I’m the parent.”

“It’s my way or the highway.”

“I made you and I can end you.”

“While you live under THIS roof ...”

Seriously, whatever slows the inevitable mutiny that will ensue when someday they stop fighting long enough to realize if they band together in unison they can overthrow you.

In order to preserve the natural pecking order when it comes to parents vs. teenagers, it’s important to catch them off guard occasionally.

It’s really quite simple.

Just corner the inconvenienced, eye-rolling teen and casually ask to “see” their phone, then watch what happens.

Trust me — now you’ve got their undivided attention.

Who knew five little words could incite such panic and fear?

The blood drains from their face as they clasp the phone tighter.

They will concede to ANY chore if it keeps their phone out of your hands.

Their whole world is that phone.

It contains an entire portable universe. It is their life source and requires them to devote much of their free time staring deep into the eyes of a lighted screen, oblivious to everything else,

Now, I’ve never actually SEEN a teen perish or turn to dust simply because they lost access to the information superhighway, but based on how genuinely panicked my kids got when the Wi-Fi went out, I’m open to the real possibility that it could be more than Myth.

Our Wi-Fi went out over spring break.

Never had I seen my kids demonstrate such teamwork and family togetherness.

The only time these kids move in any kind of unison is when they are grumpily stampeding  down the stairs in the morning like a herd of flat-footed buffalo. After all, there is but one watering hole that we all share, and the fastest buffalo gets a nice hot shower accompanied by the music stylings of everyone else’s fists pounding on the door.

This was more like a Black Ops mission.

Kid #2 was shouting orders to Kid #3 like a drill sergeant.

Kid #3 was unplugging and replugging the router.

Kid #4 lay in a crumpled, deflated heap in front of his PlayStation until suddenly an impromptu inspection of the fuse box in the basement was organized and carried out flawlessly.

Although I had braced for it, no one even bothered to run up the stairs quick, shut the basement door, flip the light switch off and lock Kid #4 down there.

They had purpose and a common goal.

It was a rare, beautiful series of events.

But also kind of creepy, in an “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” kind of way.

Their efforts were in vain. Their attempts gallant, yet futile.

Apparently, a basement mouse had chewed through a wire that runs into the basement from the outside. Not just ANY wire. A single, but vital wire that separated them from the universe as THEY knew it and thrust them back in time to the pre-internet Dark Ages.

Also known as my childhood.

Before their faces began to melt clean off right in front of my very eyes, I hid in the bathroom to write this.

I could hear the hysteria and confusion as I hid safely in the bathroom scarfing the last ice cream sandwich that I had the foresight to hide in the event of the end of civilization.

Someone was sobbing softly while polishing the screen of their phone, another cradling his PlayStation controller.

This parenting thing has its ups and downs, but it’s never, ever boring.

Disclaimer: No children were actually scarred for life in the aforementioned fiasco.

Stefanie Freeman is a Jefferson resident currently serving 18 to life as a mother of four.