Because I swear to God, my 15 year old is going to be the death of me.
How I long to be as smart as she is. I know it will happen in the next seven years or so.
When she disappears for a couple of hours I will know without asking that she has gone door to door to collect money for the suicide awareness association in her short shorts and holier than thou attitude.
I will recognize that grounding her and her sister from our computer that just cost us $450 to repair is just plain cheap and would, in reality, never do it.
I will understand how keeping five guys dangling on the end of a noose and being at her beck and call is good for her, and their, well being.
I will see how NOT being the one in the spotlight one single time in her 15 years is just plain wrong. And gay.
I will know that it is totally bad parenting to need to know passwords, and occasionally check the shit that is going on in this electronic world of teen communication. My bad.
I will let her wander the streets at night, pick her own bedtime, and leave her the hell alone so she can be independent, while at the same time driving her to school and helping her find a part time job and then driving her to and from that part time job. All while leaving her the hell alone in her independence.
I will happily recognize the fact that I am to brush aside my anger at her disrespecting and humiliating me with her mouth-before-brain syndrome the very second she shows signs of forgiving me for parenting her.
One day I will figure out these things. Possibly in time for the next daughter to become a cranky, all-knowing teenager. And if I haven't yet learned all there is to learn by the time my five year old daughter reaches that stage, then for the love of all that is good in the world, just let me be numb.
I'll take what I can get.