Instructions

One way to get out of a funk is to put everything aside, throw some clothes in a suitcase and drive 5 hours to see friends you haven’t seen in 20 years.  With only minimal planning, we left Youngest Daughter at home and went to my 30^th college reunion.  Three of my college friends (plus my husband, who is also a college friend) came to the reunion; other than that, I was anonymous, which was just fine with me.   That’s the way an introvert likes a reunion. 

For 24 hours I did not think about those things that have been irking me – no newspapers, no e-mail, no radio.  It was great!  Instead, my focus of concern was that we left YD at home alone for 24 hours.  People tell me there is a movie of this name, but I have never seen it.  People also warn me that I should not watch it just before leaving my child home alone. 

I left YD a note taped to the front door, reminding her what to take to her marching band event.  I was proud of my balance of the maternal Need to Remind with the contradictory Avoidance of Parenting Helicoptorially.  I simply wrote, “Take key!  Turn on outside light!” 

Before we left, though, my husband added more instructions all over my note, exhibiting a futile Hope for Useful Labor from a Teenager.  “Feed the fish!  Rake the leaves! Tote that barge!  Lift that bale!”

Those chores dilute my message, which was, "don't lock yourself out of the house."

I called YD Saturday afternoon just to see how she was doing.  She said sweetly, “Thank you for the note, Mommy!”  I expressed equivalent gratitude to her.  Then she said in a commanding voice, “Tell Daddy that except for feeding the fish, I am not going to do any of those things he wrote on there.”   And she didn’t.

So all three of us had a good weekend.  When we got home, I asked her, “What happened here while we were away?”  She said, “Nothing happened, and I enjoyed every minute of it.”