
Style entirely inspired by Beckett's Vladimir and Estragon
My teenager and sleep
A hallway.
Light beneath a bedroom door. Two parents stand outside it in dressing gowns.
‘It’s midnight.’
‘Yes.’
‘He’s still awake.’
‘Apparently.’
Silence. The faint sound of videos through headphones.
‘School tomorrow.’
‘Unfortunately.’
One parent checks the time again. ‘At his age I was asleep by ten.’
‘At his age you also owned three cassette tapes.’
Silence.
‘He’s exhausted every morning.’
‘So am I.’
‘You’re fifty-two.’
‘Exactly. I’ve earned it.’
A long pause.
‘Maybe we should take the phone.’
‘You said that yesterday.’
‘Still an excellent idea.’
‘So did prohibition.’
Silence.
‘Why are teenagers nocturnal?’
‘Puberty.’
‘That’s a broad answer.’
‘Puberty is a broad event.’
‘No, seriously.’
‘Their body clocks move.’
‘Where to?’
‘Later.’
‘That’s not helpful.’
‘It is, their brains release melatonin later at night.’
‘Melatonin?’
‘The sleep hormone.’
‘We had hormones?’
‘We had confusion and potato-based dinners.’
Silence.
‘So he’s not tired?’
‘Not when we are.’
‘That seems badly designed.’
‘Teenagers often are.’
From inside the room: ‘Still awake?’
The parents freeze. ‘He heard us.’
‘The walls are paper thin.’
‘Maybe he should sleep through us.’
‘Maybe we should whisper less theatrically.’
Silence.
‘So his body wants him asleep at midnight.’
‘Roughly.’ ‘
And school wants him awake at six-thirty.’
‘Correct.’
‘That sounds cruel.’
‘That’s because it is.’
‘Then why does everyone call them lazy?’
‘Because exhausted people rarely look inspiring.’
Silence.
‘He sleeps until noon at weekends.’
‘That’s recovery.’
‘Looks like death.’
‘Adolescence often does.’
A floorboard creaks inside the room.
‘Does lack of sleep really matter that much?’
‘Memory.’
‘Mood.’
‘Concentration.’
‘Decision-making.’
‘Kindness.’
‘Kindness?’
‘Tired people become strange versions of themselves.’
Silence.
‘That explains parliament.’
‘And airports.’
A long pause.
‘Maybe we should help him build a routine.’
‘You tried that.’
‘I bought lavender spray.’
‘He used it as deodorant.’
Silence.
‘Maybe the problem is screens.’
‘Partly.’
‘Partly?’
‘Sometimes people stay awake because they don’t like being alone with their thoughts.’
Neither speaks for a moment.
‘You think he’s anxious?’
‘You think teenagers scroll for six hours because life feels wonderful?’
Silence.
From inside the room: ‘Some of us are watching a documentary.’
‘At one in the morning?’
‘About insomnia.’
The parents look at each other. ‘That’s medically impressive.’
‘Or very funny.’
Silence.
‘Should we go in?’
‘And say what?’
‘Go to sleep.’
‘He knows sleep exists.’
‘Then what do parents do?’
‘Mostly? Stand outside doors inventing speeches.’
A pause.
‘What should we actually say?’
‘Probably something honest.’
‘Such as?’
‘You look tired lately. Are you alright?’
Silence.
‘That’s annoyingly reasonable.’
‘I know.’
One parent knocks softly. ‘Can we come in?’
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘Whether this is another lecture about phones.’
‘No.’
‘Then what is it?’
A pause.
‘We’re starting to think you’re not lazy.’
Silence. Then, from inside the room: ‘That might be the nicest thing you’ve said all month.’
Further reading
Sleep Foundation – Teen Sleep Guidelines and Circadian Rhythms
NHS – Teen sleep advice and mental health
Child Mind Institute – Sleep, screen time, and adolescent wellbeing
The School of Life – Self-care and the role of sleep in emotional development