How Late Is Too Late?

JB got this shot of a treed bobcat, compliments of Lucky-- the dog that keeps on giving and giving. Lucky was Miss Jeni's15th birthday gift (she's now 22 ! we brought this dog from Texas 7 years ago when I relocated) and here she is with me in Virginia. She's a beautiful dog, but entirely too temperamental--requiring a kennel during thunderstorms and too much attention from all the family.

Ansd she chases everything in sight-- hence the bobcat!

I must say, in her defense, Lucky hasn't been the same since Jake passed.

Nonetheless. It has been a weekend.

A weekend full of parenting thought long gone. But is there such a thing? Finished parenting?

I think not. I hope so, but I think not.

I find myself facing two semesters of the dreaded math--the math I thought would vanish and not be necessary all of a sudden--but is still there staring me in the face!

So, what better time to educate my offspring on the doing of deeds we would rather not do?

But, as usual with unprovoked wisdom-- it feel on deaf ears.

I hate that, don't you?

So, I busied myself with laundry and the cleaning of floors. We had words..there is a definite communication gap--am I that old and out of touch?

I think not.

Every parent--every generation--is tasked with doing everything within their power to make the path of the next generation more tolerable.

And just when I think all is lost, Miss Jessica phones and tells me she loves me. She tells me she has lived 6 years without me and isn't quite sure how to react with all this up-in-your-face-parenting. Should she call and let me know she is going to be out late and risk waking me up? Or should she just not call at all?

I tell her it is never too late to call a parent and put their mind at ease.

And having said that--
I can now go to bed.