It was half past ten yesterday evening when I got in. Where had I been out to until that ungodly hour? Picking up my son from a birthday party. No big issue with that – teenagers will be teenagers. Except that my boy is 10 years old. Please note that I’m observing and commenting here rather than complaining. And it’s not even something that I would have brought up if it were not for the fact that when we got home, my 8-year-old daughter was still out at the theatre in town.
Kids these days. They grow up so quickly don’t they?
I don’t think things happened like this when I was 8. Or 10.
Things like this did happen when I was a teenager, obviously, and I was thinking that last night’s “dirty stop out/dad’s taxi” antics would make for good training for those upcoming years.
But then, if they’re already partying up a late night storm at 8 and 10 years old, then what exactly will my kids’ teenage years bring? And then, taking the wholly unscientific extrapolation one step further, the student years.
Oh my goodness, I think I need to go and have a sit down.