Upstairs my daughter giggles. She sounds like a child still. Her voice is high and cute but she's well beyond that. She's a quirky girl with a slip sliding wit. She's a force of energy. A sexual creature who has a sense of style and focus that constantly astounds me.
With her is a skinny short girl who has been her friend since they were in Montessori at 3 years old. For awhile they stopped being friends because her step-mother told people my daughter was bad news. Frankly, I wasn't all that sorry since I figured she didn't have much going on for her and was turning Goth anyway. But they're friends again. That's more than I can say for her step mom and me.
Also upstairs are two boys who I don't really know. They all seem a bit...sorry to have seen me come when I did. The kitchen looks like they might have the munchies, if you know what I mean.
Senior year is tricky. They are on their way, one foot out the curfew-less door. My daughter tells me how excited she is for her life to expand. Of course I'm happy. Naturally I'm thrilled she gets it. And yet...
Soon, I'll be an empty-nester. Both my girls will be off into the great miasma of life and I'll wonder why I'm here, in this house, with this husband, in this job, in this state. Every productive thing I've accomplished in this life is due to having children to wake up for.
