Are You My Mother? No? I Didn’t Think So

I say this every day of my life.

In particular, one of my daughters speaks to me as though we are a committee of which she is chair.

When she was barely able to talk, she would offer to drive.  The car.

As the years have passed, she’s honed her craft, until she’s decided what we’re doing, days before her dad and I are looking at the schedule for that day.

Most of our disagreements center around my hubris to suggest, there may be more factors in a decision, than her will.

Last night, I looked at her and said,”You are going to have to face it.  You are not an adult. Sorry, but you aren’t the boss….”

It sucked to have to do it.  On the other hand, she’s 15 and hadn’t noticed.  I stopped short of saying, “I am the boss,” which, though true, seemed like piling on.

It got me to thinking of the things that I can do, that she cannot.  For example, the voting age is 18, the age at which you may purchase real estate is 18.  The drinking age is 18 or 21, fairly arbitrary as far as I can tell.  Even to be allowed to operate an automobile alone, one must be 16.

In order to be the leader of the free world, you have to be at least 35.  Note, however, that few people try it at 35. I guess people have figured out that they don’t, in fact, know everything, by age 35.

I’m thinking there are just a few other things that should be limited by age.

Then again, I have an adult’s concept of time and realize they have a mountain of maturity to accomplish in the next two years.

Hopefully, when she get’s the authority she so desperately craves, she’ll be ready for the responsibility that goes with it.

 

 

 

 

 

I love it when you sass me. Please leave a comment.

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