The teenage years are going to kill me. I'm quite certain that any natural color in my hair is bleeding out with every passing minute. Conner isn't even driving yet, and I already feel like he's got one foot out the door.
Texting is his life line. When he has his cellphone, Conner is working those buttons. We collect his cell in the evenings as a rule, because anything that needs to be "discussed" can certainly be addressed during daylight hours. I sound like a prude, but don't really give a rip. The phone is on my bill, so I call the shots.
Today Conner went to hang out with his friends, and said that he would call home after a bit. Any time he is gone he knows that he has to check in at least every two hours - it's a RULE. So after a couple of hours had lapsed and there was no contact, we started trying to track him down. Problem was that his phone had either run out of juice or been turned off because it kept rolling straight to voicemail. Seriously? I mean, this kid KNOWS when his cell is low on charge, because he doesn't want to miss anything. I get it - I am the same way. So for him to leave on less than at least half a cell is just idiotic.
The boy did not roll onto the street until 8:30pm...almost SIX hours after he left.
I haven't said much, which is not my usual schtick, but let him know that he is in seriously HOT water. There are no excuses that will get him out of the hole he has created. He left in the middle of the day and got home after dark without calling.
Lord, give me strength.