At around 9:15 last night, as I was brushing my teeth, Cakes, our youngest called her mom and asked if she could hang out with some of her new friends from church after work. She promised that she wouldn’t be home too late.
The father instinct in me told my wife to clarify “How late is too late?” In my mind, 12:00 would be reasonable since she doesn’t get off work until 10:00.
I didn’t wait around to hear an answer. I didn’t even wait around to see if my wife actually asked the question. After all, she frequently thinks I am too tough on the children when I am in “Father” mode. It is only afterward, when my hunches are borne out, that she thinks I hung the moon. Anyway, I was too tired to push the issue so I went to bed.
In the middle of the night, I had to use the bathroom. The clock on my night stand read 4:00 as I was getting back into bed.
Just as I pulled the covers up over me, I heard the front door very slowly and very quietly start to open!
What an exciting way to start the morning! I continued listening…
The door quietly closed and the deadbolt slid into the locked position.
Well, that rules out a criminal!
That must mean…
My daughter is just now getting home!?!?!?!?
I decided right then and there that she and I evidently have VERY different definitions of “not too late” and there is no time like the present to get down to discussing them!
Let me just say that it wasn’t all hugs and kisses!
