Not sure if putting this out for all to see is a good idea, but here goes. Tonight I alternate between packing and doing laundry in preparation for the drive. I'm going to go get the rental around noon and pick up the wife as soon as she get's out of class.
From there it's straight out of town for the weekend. With luck and a dedicated copilot, we should get to Alamosa, Colorado by Saturday morning. Musketeer number two and three will keep the dog company and try not to get into any trouble. (for certain values of the word 'trouble'.) Well, let's hope the police or fire departments are not involved.
This is not an invitation for my daughters to step out of line any further than they already do. There will be no parties, no friends coming over to say hi. There's no way I can enforce that statement. Simply put; there is no rule that can't be gotten around. I have to trust my child's judgement. Raising them right is one thing, being given the opportunity to demonstrate the faith we have in them is part and parcel of growing up.
I believe they will do the right things. I've stocked the fridge with their favorite foods and snacks. All the precautions have been taken. There is simply no need for them to get out of bed this weekend. One has to trust.
Now that's out of the way, I'm going to call them every few hours. I'm also going to have friends and neighbors keep an eye out for trouble.
I trust my kids. They will behave pretty much like I did when I was their age, which means:
If there is a party, the house will be cleaner than when I left it.
I'm also going to count the number of mead bottles I have in my wine rack.
35.
There are thirty-five bottles.
Trusting my daughters is easy. Trusting their friends and people who visit is another story.
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