I spent most of the day yesterday with my shoulders up around my ears like big, meaty earrings. The reason for the tension? The Teenager, and her BFF, had left on a road trip to a college hours and hours away.
In my defense, it was the first time The Teenager had ever driven for such a long distance. It was also the first time she had navigated the interstate, and, the first time she would be spending the night away, in a strange city, by herself (with her BFF. God, Chelle; pull yourself together!). I was, understandably, nervous and tense.
The rational part of me tried, desperately, to talk the emotional side of me down from my perch on the wailing wall by reminding me that this is the natural progression when one has children; you give them wings and hope they fly.
The emotional side of me gave the rational side of me the middle finger and continued fretting until we got the call from The Teenager, letting us know that they had made it safely to the home of a dear friend of ours, with whom they would be staying.
As an aside, yes; I am aware that I just talked about myself in such a way as to imply that I suffer from multiple personality syndrome, or something approximating it. The rational side of me wants you to know that this is not the case.
And, I digress...
...so, The Teenager is in good hands with a fine, upstanding young woman who will watch over her and keep her safe for me as she stretches those beautiful (yet, delicate and fragile) wings of hers, and, the biggest fear I have, according to said fine, upstanding young woman, is The Teenager coming home with a tattoo.
If that is the worst thing that happens during this whole "becoming an adult" thing, I guess I can live with it.