AN alphabetical guide on how to cope with teenage sons - C is for Cars and Conversation, Cigarettes, Coursework and Cheap Cider

Suddenly - along with that first curled lip and slouch of the shoulders - your little boy loses the power of speech. Instead of prattling happily, he grunts, generally while looking at his feet.

This makes communication difficult - though you may occasionally manage to pick out a few key words, usually "money", "food", "new trainers" or "lift into town"

When you hear him talk to his friends, it's worse. Are they really human? All these grunts, bellows, snorts , are all utterly indecipherable as normal speech, but they clearly work as some primitive level of communication - because suddenly all these teenage boys get to their enormous feet and shuffle out. Has a plan been discussed? Has a decision been reached? How can they tell? Maybe we should get David Attenborough onto the case.

Remember how years ago you taught your little boys to speak? Well, bad luck, you've got to do it all again. And this time it's a lot harder.

You come in to find your son sitting in the kitchen.

"Hello," you say brightly.

Grunt.

"Have you had a good day?"

Grunt

"Have you got much homework?"

Grunt

"Would you like some tea?"

Grunt grunt.

By which time you're exhausted and you've only been in the same room for two minutes. The secret - like the old interviewer's trick - is never to ask a question that can be answered in one word, or grunt.

And CARRY ON TALKING

Pretend - as you do with babies, or accident victims - that they can hear what you say and understand it, even if they don't reply Supply the replies yourself, if need be. One day they might actually say something - and if you haven't got used to circling round each other in silence, it's much easier for them to open their mouths and speak.

Conversation and communication is vital. This is why all these fancy experts always stress the importance of family meals to encourage and exchange news and views, lively conversation and happy family harmony.

Not in our house.

For a start, the four of us were hardly ever in the house at the same time, certainly not for meals. We were all too busy doing things. Yes, family meals are important - but not more important than getting on with life. Anyway, our family meals usually ended with father or sons emptying the water jug over each other. But that's another story.

So you find other places to talk. And the car is ideal. For a start, a boy willingly gets into the car with you because he wants a lift. And because you're driving, you're not fixing him with an accusing stare - well, I hope not. And because you are both sitting there, not looking at each other it is somehow easier for them to tell you things, or just to chat.

Especially in the dark

So don't let them put the car radio or lean back with their eyes closed listening to their Walkman. You're the one giving the lift, you can make the rules. Eventually they'll say something, in reply to you. Probably nothing world shattering, but that's not the point. It's conversation and it's communication - and it paves the way for those days when there really is something they want to tell you.

Or, of course, that you want to tell him. Because once you've got him in the car, you have a captive audience to say all those things which need saying. Which probably gets us to those Conversations about Coursework, Cigarettes and Cheap Cider.

Published: 28/11/2002