I had a conversation tonight with Elizabeth that concerned rabid zombies with feelings in a Will Smith movie that I am convinced was an allegory for the so-called homosexual agenda in the US. A dog died in this movie, apparently after turning gray and losing all of its hair. I am not convinced that this dog did not have just rabies and mange vs. being infected by zombies, but whatevs. I also learned that becoming a zombie is comparable to most communicable diseases in that it is spread through contact with saliva and blood. It involved a thorough discussion of what we would do in the event of a Zombie Apocalypse as well as much detail about the comparison between zombies and gay people. Zombies don't want to change, y'all...they just want to be allowed to be who they are. (And for the record, I was not comparing gay people to zombies; I was merely using this as a teaching moment to illustrate to my child how easy it is to rationalize the marginalization of an entire group of people when you lump them into the "other" category. I do occasionally parent responsibly...)
These random products of our somewhat twisted minds; this conversation that would concern some people were they to overhear us...these are the things that I enjoy the most about the teenage years. The developing adult sense of humor, the ability to appreciate satire and to engage in witty back and forth banter. It on occasion makes the sullenness, the lability of mood, the general attitude of OMFG MOM! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT AND IF I WOULD NOT GET GROUNDED FOR LIFE I WOULD TOTALLY TELL YOU TO FUCK OFF! much more bearable.
In these moments, I get a glimpse of the woman that my daughter is going to become. I see beyond the torture that is the adolescent era to the strong, intelligent, and capable adult that will be. And I think, "I was responsible for this. I helped create this. I helped shape this."
Truly, a humbling experience.