I know where all of mine are. Four of them are not in jail on traffic warrants.
So I was standing in the bookstore, searching unsuccessfully for that new British knitting magazine, when my cell phone rang. “Have you spoken to [sibling]?”
“No, why?”, knowing that this could not be good.
“She called [another sibling], who told her you might know what to do.”
So I called my misdemeanorious child’s cell phone and left a message. And followed it up with a text message, asking if she wanted me to bake her a cake with a file in it.
I have come a long, long way from the hysteria I would have felt, had this happened ten years ago. She is not in the pokey in Arlington, so it took awhile to find out which of the smaller municipalities was feeding her bread and water. And unlike the last time the traffic cops caught up with one of my kids, at least she is not supposed to be somebody’s maid of honor tomorrow...
I suppose we can call this progress, of a sort. And since we went through this last summer with her father, I think it entirely fair to blame it on his DNA [yay for the Mom Song; I’m headed over there in a minute or so].
I think I would be nowhere near as calm if I had not spent last Tuesday afternoon serving in the temple. Truly the peace that is not of this world. [I will confess to being mildly curious as to the whereabouts of her vehicle; it wasn’t towed today. Presumably one of her friends picked it up for her.] Plus, I have been following the counsel of one of our church leaders, who suggested that if we have children who are not spiritually inclined, that we pray that they might have experiences that help them feel Heaven’s love for them [as well as showing them that whatever course they are on, is perhaps not the wisest]. So it wouldn’t be sensible, or grateful, for me to whine because my child is receiving the natural consequences of her choices.
She will be sitting out her warrants and will be released on Tuesday morning. I’m just glad that she’s safe, and I look forward to giving her a hug, if she wants one, on Tuesday night. And now I am headed over to YouTube and then to the fridge for some chocolate cake therapy. There may or may not be another post in the morning.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!