Busy days at the beach, entire afternoons spent becoming one with the furniture. Late nights with no bedtime in sight. Entire mornings spent unconscious, blissfully unaware that somewhere out there...people are awake, caffeinated and fully functional.
My youngest teen daughter, who is spending a good part of her summer with me has just found a new hobby. And no, it's not boys. She found that hobby when she realized she had big baby blues and could bat her lil eyelashes. She's been spending quite a bit of time painting this afternoon. I was watching a boring movie on our TV the size of Ontario, as the furniture movers called it...Maria was happily engrossed in her own little world. Earbuds plugged in, paintbrush in hand, completely oblivious to anything I might be saying. I took the opportunity to tell her I was making fudge brownies and then walked into the kitchen, chuckling at my own silly joke on her.
Later in the evening, some friends of our called and we decided to join them for a night out. Ten minutes later, we were in the car and ready to go. "Wow!" I thought to myself. "A new record." Just before we pulled out of the parking lot, my sweetheart turned to me with a such a solemn face and asked, "Mom, do I have any paint on my face?" Earlier, I had removed a smudge of aqua from her nose so she had reason to ask. I looked intently at her freckles, making sure they were all hers and told her she was fine.
"Oh good!" she replied. "That's a relief!" and proceeded to pull out a makeup bag that took up the entire front seat, crammed full of paints and plastered herself with several fresh coats.
O help! I need another lemonade and some time in the shade with a good book...to cover up my watchful eyes as she splashes and laughs with her new-found friends. People always said that being the mother of teens was difficult. They forgot to say ironic, silly and sometimes rofl funny.
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