being 18 means....

no curfews?!?!


Right...

It’s odd that I would feel so odd about having an 18 year old daughter considering I have a son turning 20 in a few months. I now see that every parent must go through the ‘when I was your age’ shtick, it’s a right of passage. What’s scary is the focus in which I can remember myself at their ages. I really needn’t worry, my kids are light years ahead of where I was at their age (at least in general maturity and spirituality- not fiscally darn it!)

For some reason my now 18 year old offspring thought some magical freedom fairy visited her on her birthday. I.E. our conversation this morning:

me- “What time did you get home last night?

her- “Oh” she’s shrugging her shoulders like it’s ‘no biggy’ “around 10:00.”

me- “Did you forget about curfew?” calmly – no really!

her- “uhhhhhh” looking at me like one would look at their poor old deranged granny who had Alzheimer's, dementia, and a bad memory all rolled into one...”I’m 18 now, I still have curfew?”

me- “uhhhhh” OK – not quite so calmly now, “Where do you live? Do you still go to High School? Do you still have to get up for Seminary? Yes! And you still have household jobs, you still must get permission before taking off anywhere, and I can still turn you over my knee and swat you!”

OK- so the last thing might be kind of hard since she’s very strong, and I don’t spank my kids...but it’s never too late to start.