I love teenagers. Seriously.
An awesome young woman that I admire said to me, "Hey, did your son tell you we were thinking about going out later tonight?"
"Uh, no. Where--" but then I stopped myself, realizing I was prying, and instead said, "I'm sure you guys would have a blast."
Her eyebrows popped up. "Really? You don't mind if a bunch of us go out later?"
I denied my inner control freak and mounting curiosity. "No. I don't mind. He's old enough to make his own decisions."
So, I arrived home and said to my seventeen-year-old son, "So, I talked to Bertha (name changed to protect the
His eyebrows popped up. "Really? You don't mind?"
My curiosity became harder to control. "No. As long as you walk in the door before midnight. I don't care if you go have fun with your friends." I'm such a great mom.
"Well, I don't know if we can be home before midnight, because Krispy Kreme doesn't close until 11pm, and it takes half an hour just to drive back home after that, and we'll need time to go through the dumpster."
"WHAT?!" I very calmly asked.
"Dumpster diving," he very calmly replied. "You said you didn't mind."
"WHAT?!" I heard myself repeat.
"Dumpster diving. Krispy Kreme closes at 11pm. They throw out their unsold donuts. We grab them from the dumpster and run."
Clearly my son is too young to make his own decisions.
"I'm sure that can't be legal," I said.
"The girls have done it before." He smiled and waggled his big bushy eyebrows.
"That doesn't make it legal. And, I'm not getting you out of jail. You will have to sit there and rot."
"Okay! Thanks, Mom!" And he dialed his friends to make plans.
p.s. If dumpster diving is illegal, please consider this a completely fictional story. I am, after all, a writer.