It is 4 AM when I awake with that feeling that you get when it's time for the baby to nurse when they are infants.
That same feeling lets you know they are up to something 15 years later.
I look in the living room where 4 teenage girls were sprawled watching old Friends reruns when I went to bed.
I go out the front door and find the girls and a few boys ,too.
"Hello" I said, quite cheerfully , considering the circumstances.
They all froze, like deer in the headlights.
Do they think I wont see them?
Being a special education teacher, I know to give specific instructions.
"Girls, you need to go inside now.'
They wordlessly file past me and sit on the couch.
The boys, apparently, have turned to stone (no jokes about hardness, this is my baby here)
Further instructions seem to be in order.
"Boys, you can go home now."
No, I'm not angry.
It's like a chess game.
Their objective is to get away with everything they can.
My job is to catch them.
Only poor sports get angry playing a game!
Checkmate for mom this time!