So Margaret, my fourteen-year old, went on the 8th grade trip to DC. We gave her spending money and helped her pack. All we wanted was to get a few pictures texted to us now and then. She acted like we’d asked her to saw off her own legs and beat her cat to death with them…because apparently, we’re like that.
I think I used up six rolls of film on my Kodak Instamatic when I went to DC at her age. She has a smart phone with a forward facing camera and 8,000 mega pixels.
We had to beg her for pictures.
Not even taken by her – but by her friend Betty. This was the only picture we had of Margaret for two days. I’d asked Betty, “How do I know you didn’t skip at the airport and aren’t in Mexico right now?” Betty; “My phone wouldn’t have any bars in Mexico.”
It took until Day 2 to get this:
Her: Some Random Guy.
Me: Um, okay, so why can’t you send me a picture with you in it?
Her: NO! That’s WAY TOO HARD!
Me: Says the child who could hack into the KGB with a cell phone. Boy, I’m glad I got you that expensive smart phone with the front facing camera…
Me, in front of a building
Her: Fine. Here you go.
Me: Wow. You might’ve outdone yourself there…
Her: Thought you’d like this.
Me: What? Why?
Why would I like this…the ibex equivalent of the Time Magazine cover on attachment parenting? Cuz that is no baby…
Okay, this is just awesome.
Her: Apparently, this is Robert E. Lee’s face on back of Lincoln’s head.
Me: Only if Robert E. Lee was a muppet or severely deformed… BTW – this is absolutely not true – it’s a myth. What moron told you that?
Her: Our guide, who told us this.
Me: You mean the moron who told you this.
Her: This is a panda’s butt.
Me: You are the sweetest child ever.
You know what? Turns out she might be a lot like me after all.