We have seen very little of The Teenager since classes started on Monday. In addition to school, she is working twenty hours a week and driving two hours a day, seven days a week.
We would say we miss her, but, with all of the sweet notes she leaves lying around the house, we feel her presence in a big way.
This one expresses her mild displeasure at not finding her favorite sandwiches in the freezer.
And this one, meant for her brother, describes her opinion of last year's yearbook. I think she might miss being the editor or something.
I am treasuring these random-yet frequent-missives from the child because I know, in a few months time, when she is firmly planted in her new digs, I will miss her and her poison pen.
Thank goodness for text messages, I suppose.