Follow by Email

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Murdering

I wait up for Elizabeth every time she goes out.  Mostly because I am a ball of anxiety and I am usually firmly convinced that if I don't somehow she is going to be murdered coming from the driveway to the porch.  I'm usually dozing on the couch because I'm old and have thus far been unable to force the world to accommodate my night owl tendencies (which means that for me to wake up at a decent time, I can't stay up past midnight every night like I would do on my own if left to my own devices...).  Anyways, I still wait for her in the living room so I know she is home safe.

For some reason, the other night the front door got locked, and of course Elizabeth took offense to this and claimed that we "always" lock her out of the house.  Fine, tack on another 6 months of therapy there, but I swear this is the first time I've had to get up to unlock it for her...and she has a key, for fuck's sake.  Our conversation proceeded something like this:

E:  Why you always locking the door?

Me: It's not always locked.  I usually don't lock it till you come home.

E:  Yes, it is.  What are you afraid of?

Me:  Murderers coming to get me.  Do you want someone to murder me?

E:  Oh come on.  Who's going to murder you?

Me:  A murderer.

E:  No one is going to come in here and shoot you.  We don't have anything they would want to steal anyways.

Me:  They don't have to shoot me.  Maybe they are feeling stabby.  And maybe it's just a random murderer.  Why you gotta question their motives, Elizabeth?

E: We live behind the police station, for God's sake...

Me:  Maybe they are living dangerously.  Don't question their motives.

E:  Right.  The murderers are just misunderstood.  I'm going to bed now.


Like that parenting win there?  Not only did I diffuse a potentially teenager-y fight sequence that would have made me wish I had a real prescription for Xanax, I slipped in a bit of education about the importance of not second guessing murderers' motives.  Because they's all kind of crazy, I tell you what.  And I should know, cause I know crazy.

Sometimes I do get this parenting thing right.




No comments:

Post a Comment