Parents, how often have you listened to your children talk amongst their friends and wondered Where on earth did they learn to speak such horrible grammar? Or What does that mean?  Have you tried to request something of them and they have given you a confused, blank stare in return?  And last, but definitely most importantly, would you like to communicate with them?

Well, this is Super-Teenager-Decoder Girl here, and I'm ready and willing to help.  I am on the down-low with the lingo and I know how to fit in.  Why?  Because I am one of those creatures that science devotes expensive studies to and emerges only with "teenagers are susceptible to acne."

Okay, lets do some role-playing.  Imagine your teen is planning to attend a nice little soiree with his friends and tells you very politely to Keep at least six miles from the party at all times or else youll embarrass me.  Please, resist the temptation to don your new sweater-vest and show off, no matter how cool it seems to be.  Yet your instincts are correct, and this is really a cry for help.  Your child truly wishes you to be there.  You just dont know how to dress or speak yet.

The popular style these days is a nice big sweatshirt with a hood.  If you dont have one of these, it's okay, just wear a sweater with a Ziploc baggie taped to the back.  Perhaps you could even purchase your threads at a super-hip store such as Abercrombie & Fitch or Tommy Hilfiger.  You must wear jeans there are no exceptions.  The whole ensemble works even better if you have the exact clothes your teen is wearing.  You will be twins and everyone will be jealous.

Approach the party.  The first thing you should do is hug your child and announce "What up, G?  How's life in your turf?"  It will immediately show how down with it you are with pop-slang.  Whenever you address someone by name, add "dog" or "G" as a suffix to their name.  Pepper the conversation with "yo," even when it doesn't make sense.  Say "like" after every word, occasionally twice in a row.  You will know you're succeeding when your child's face loses all of its natural color and her friends start laughing.  That means they're accepting you.  They love you; you are "da bomb.'

Now that you've achieved supreme "groovitude" (noun; means having a groovy attitude; synonymous with "hip," "rad," and "swell"), how do you gracefully leave this joyous bonding time?  Well, assuming this party is at someone elses home, you have driven your car.  Hopefully you have tricked it out with huge music amplifiers (called "amps" for obvious reasons) that weigh no less than eighty-three pounds each and lower the back end of your "ride" at least a foot.  As you pull away, squeal your tires loudly to punctuate your coolness and if you smell burnt rubber, you've done everything right and have achieved that "ghetto fab" effect.

Way to go, parents!  You can now return from your role-playing game to reality and try out your new skills.  You can hang with your young homies and be "down with all the jazz" you desire.  Aren't you glad you can now spend more quality, fulfilling time with your loving child?  Word, and peace out.