Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Mothers and daughters

My daughter was in the kitchen rummaging for an after-school snack and I asked her a question...
and she answered me with a belch.
I mean she did the belch-talk thing.

On purpose.

I had to wipe a proud tear from my eye.


Yesterday she came home from school bubbling over about the Spring Fling dance.
I told her she could probably go, if she didn't get in my bad books & get grounded before then.
Then.
She said.
A.
Boy.
ASKED HER TO GO.
WITH HIM.
To the dance.

A stinky nasty disgusting dirty boy, for crap's sake.


I'm SO not ready for that.


WhywhyWHY didn't I send her to the convent like I planned?


I think I'm having a panic attack.


P.S. Where can I get a shotgun?


P.P.S. I don't need ammunition, I just want to look threatening.
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