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Sitting in the living room watching music videos and chatting about nothing, Myr says to me:
"You know what I've decided, Mom? The summer after I graduate (that's over three years away, mind) I'm going to take a two week trip by myself. I don't know where I'm going to go, but I'll camp. I'll take Papa's bike -- the little one -- and just head out."
She pauses a moment and says, "That sounds good doesn't it?"
Let me think: my 18-year-old daughter, on her own, on a red Honda 250, spending two weeks somewhere in the country, alone. I so don't think so.
I say: "Sounds great, honey. A trip to remember."
Gads. This mom stuff sucks.
"You know what I've decided, Mom? The summer after I graduate (that's over three years away, mind) I'm going to take a two week trip by myself. I don't know where I'm going to go, but I'll camp. I'll take Papa's bike -- the little one -- and just head out."
She pauses a moment and says, "That sounds good doesn't it?"
Let me think: my 18-year-old daughter, on her own, on a red Honda 250, spending two weeks somewhere in the country, alone. I so don't think so.
I say: "Sounds great, honey. A trip to remember."
Gads. This mom stuff sucks.
