i think this all the time, when did i turn into my mother!
Really – when did I turn into my mother?
When I was in college, as much as I loved going home I’d also dread the inevitable curfew. For God’s sake, I didn’t have a curfew at school. Hell, my parents had no idea where I was or who I was with or what time I got in.
Then I’d come home for winter break or summer break and I’d have to answer to them each time I left the house.
And so what goes around comes around. It’s my turn.
The boy and the girl are home for winter break. I love having them home: the sounds of dueling guitars emanating from their bedrooms; the “he’s weird” or “she’s annoying” comments; sitting down at the dinner table and just talking to them.
Then, eventually, they leave the house and it happens: “Where are you going?” “What time are you going…
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