Honey, It's The Police

We had been enjoying a mostly trouble free stretch where all of the children seemed to be clicking away in harmony. Nobody was in crisis and most days, we were able to shut the light out at night with a quick thanks to the universe for the relative calm. And so it goes. All good things must come to an end.

Last night, Dallas and I were comfortably tucked away in dreamland when his mobile began shrieking. It was close to midnight. I thought the alarm had gone off and was dismayed to find myself exhausted, which has become an all too familiar state of late.

Dallas got up out of bed and answered the phone. I could hear him answering questions and then he turned to me.

"Beth. What's Kim's last name?"

I was groggy, disoriented and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"It's the police. They have teenage daughter."

Immediately, my senses sharpened and my heart began to drum in my chest. It is NEVER a good thing to receive a call from the police in the middle of the night. I lay still, listening to his conversation and when it became clear that teenage daughter was not hurt, I relaxed. Dallas hung up the phone and began pulling on his clothes. Apparently, the police were on their way to another call when they noticed a truck full of teenagers doing donuts in an empty field. Teenage daughter was in the truck.

It's amazing how just a few minutes of time can change one's perspective on a situation. My first reaction was anger. I could feel myself boiling. Earlier in the day, teenage daughter had asked if she could spend the night with Kim, a girlfriend. We went through the usual banter: Who is the girl? Have I met her? What were their plans? Were her parents home? There was nothing that caused any red flags so I acquiesced. Later though, I was hacked off to find that she had left the house without finishing her chores from the weekend. This may not seem like a big deal but we don't ask much of any of the children so when they push the envelope, it chaps my ass. When the officer told Dallas that the girlfriend with whom she was supposed to be staying wasn't in the truck, I felt myself flush with the first sparks of serious displeasure. Why that little....

"Where was Kim?" we asked.

"She took off with some guy," was the reply, "So I had Brandy pick me up."

Okay, I thought, let me get this straight. You plan to spend the night at one girl's house. The parents are home. Girl calls boy and leaves you alone at her house with her parents. You then call other friend to come and get you. You helplessly find yourself in a truck with girl and two boys and go to an empty field to do donuts and burn outs.

At 11:30 pm.

Which begs the question about where teenage daughter planned to spend the evening and at what point was she going to communicate the changes to us? My guess would be um..NEVER.

So I was angry. Nearly bloody midnight, police involved, clear abuse of our trust and the freedoms she enjoys.....

But after a few minutes, the view of the whole thing mellowed and in this frame of mind, a couple of positives floated to the surface. First, we weren't getting a call from the police telling us that she had been hurt when the truck overturned in the field. Second, her mother blew into town late last night but she chose to call us even though the other path would have been much easier. Finally, once in perspective, the situation was really not that terrible. Inconvenient, yes but not horrible. Dumb teenagers with a pervasive sense of invincibility were doing something stupid. Hmm...not all that unusual.

Today, we are going to have to sit her down and address the breach of trust and the need for communication but the sky is not falling. And she'll be cleaning her bathroom today.

With a toothbrush.