- someone had shaved her head
- she had an enormous zit on her nose and it was the night of the Prom
- her cat had died
- all of her blue jeans and black t-shirts had been stolen
It was quite a commotion. And a loud, and obnoxious, end to what had been a very lovely, quiet and largely uneventful night. Suddenly, a small electronic gadget is at the center of my daughter's small, but evolving, world. Apparently it holds the secret to her social universe. And here I just use it as a random communications device. What do I know?
Now, it's unfortunate when things get lost. And it's fair to get upset. But to run up and down the halls, screeching? To slam your bedroom door so that the hall reverberates like we've been hit with a 6.5 earthquake? To hit your brother and call him a stupidface because he is snickering at the drama? All but the last one (mostly) take it a bit over the top. At least in my "lost a few things in my lifetime" book.
Like when my laptop went to blue screen in the middle of a massive deadline. Besides the heart failure, immediate onset of dread, and instant activation of the nagging little voice repeating "see! should have backed up!!!" I managed it as well as one can when a massive project just zapped itself from your existence, never to be seen again. No running up and down the halls. No door slamming. No screeching. No hair pulling (hey, that stuff costs too much to keep highlighted, that's a precious commodity).
And the whole event has me wondering what's on her phone. But knowing my Tweenager, it was just a drama thing, the like of which would have made Scarlet O'Hara proud. If only it was an effective way to return lost items.
What she doesn't know is that the ice rink called today and some nice person turned it in. But since my personal hang up is that I'm tired of seeing her fingers texting at Olympic rates, I think I'm going to sit on that little piece of information for awhile. Maybe she'll try my favorite communications device: conversation.
I know. Yeah right.