She was supremely stoic and matter-of-fact when she told me. Because that's how she is.
|My child, basically.|
Anyway, my strong and wonderful daughter has been pretty much fine since the split. I noticed she was spending a lot of time on Kik (which is a group-chat site that teh kids are into these days, for you old farts like me). She's also been busy with music, and she recently rejoined her karate training, aiming for her black belt. Good stuff, yeah?
But a week or so ago, I noticed she was back to regular texting. Yes, I look sideways at her phone when we're in the car. I respect her privacy, but I'M HER MOM.
At one point I asked her who she was texting so much. She replied, cryptically, "David."
Sure. David. A name I've never heard among her social circle. David. Sure. Fine. OK.
Last weekend we went to the movies. PDaughter was texting as we crossed the parking lot. I told her, as I always do, "Don't text and walk." Then, I impetuously added, "Tell David you'll text him later."
Her response: "You don't know who I'm texting."
Then: "David. I'm texting David."
OK. So, David.
Today, after I picked her up from karate practice, she informed me she and David were going to "hang out" on Saturday.
Which totally opened the floodgates of parental prerogative, you know?
|Don't even pretend I'm not a force of frickin' nature.|
I'm positive PDaughter doesn't care, but he's currently salutatorian of her class, and that absolutely matters to me.
To be totally honest, Drunkards, I'm freaked out my child - MY CHILD GODAMMIT - is seemingly embarking on a second romantic teenage relationship.
But hey...at least it's coming now and not when she's in her 40s and stuck in a loveless marriage.
More details to come.