Emily is 18. I kept her back a grade way back in grade school when her dyslexia and the school’s inability to help her made it necessary. I freely admit she could pack a bag and move out, but I asked her to stay at home her senior year to have some stability, get some sleep, and keep up her grades. She agreed. She has a new boyfriend and she spends most of every weekend at his house. I don’t ask.
Then he got an after school job until 11 p.m. Monday through Thursday. I started finding a note in the kitchen every morning “I went out to breakfast before school with Jake.” The first day it seemed normal enough, but on the third day I began to question this. It was her younger sister who pointed out that she might be sneaking out when he gets off work and staying at his house.
Information is gold. How could I use this to my advantage. I didn’t want her to stop working so hard to sneak out. It took some effort to get out of the creaky house, down the driveway, past the Grandparents’ house.
On the third morning I called her before school and she somehow answered the phone without knowing she had so I listened, as any mom would, for half an hour before she discovered it was on and turned it off. I heard “Oh, it’s really nice outside” as she opened the door of his house and looked out for the first time. Confirmation that we were right.
So I came up with a plan:
Part A: Sabotage. Hide shows. Vaseline doorknobs. Marker doorknobs. Hide backpack. Stay up late watching movies.
Part B: Pile on affirmations of being such a good daughter, being so honest and respectful. Lay it on thick. Make her lie more. Make her feel guilty.
It’s really too bad she figured it out in 2 days. I was having such a good time.
Even if she was jumping off the deck instead of using the doors.