Our teenage daughter is like the shoemaker's elf, she only comes out at night. Despite our descriptions of the sunshiny garden, must-see TV, bread baking, Grandma calling, Scrabble, deer with fawn, parades, announcements of global catastrophes.
Conversations go like this:
Knock-knock.
Silence.
Knock-knock.
Silence.
Knock-knock.
But oh, the night! What our teen can do overnight! In the morning, we wake to find our dishes washed, our floors swept, our laundry folded and set in baskets. Windows washed, carpets vacuumed, wastebaskets emptied, etc. Pegasus still huffing from her pre-dawn flight.
But not just that. Sometimes there are cantaloupe rosettes, or a roll of toilet paper, folded up and faucet-stamped. Sometimes a handmade card. A wildflower bouquet.
What does one do with a daughter such as this? I can tell you we do not complain. We do not take her to the pediatrician or write "asking for a friend" posts on social media. We listen to other parents say “Ours has such a mouth”, and “Ours is such a problem”, and we nod and express sympathy, but otherwise we say nothing.
There is nothing to say. We appreciate her efforts. We like not having chores. But honestly, in truth, we’d prefer she do normal teenage stuff, whatever that is nowadays.
Twelve years ago, Alice Kinerk planted bamboo in her front yard, despite
neighbors who claimed she’d regret it once it grew out of control. It
has grown out of control, but she hasn’t regretted it yet. Read more of
Alice’s fiction at alicekinerk.com.
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