I am concerned. I’ve always considered myself to be a caring and attentive parent. I take great pride in motherhood. I live for PTA meetings and used to LOVE cheering Deb on in her tai-chi tournaments. I’ll never forget the day I gave birth to my beautiful baby girl, whose tiny angelic face was the color of a garden-fresh beet (or radish).
But in the past month or so, Deb has undergone major changes, and it’s really starting to worry me. This morning while I was cleaning her room, I stumbled across a notepad that she likes to doodle in while she should be doing her homework (kids nowadays!) On the first page I found a to-do list, dated three months back, and it read as follows:
Perfectly normal, right? A healthy teen, enjoying her youth.That’s the Deb I know and love.
All she seems to care about now are boys and the mall and spending time with the “cool kids.” I haven’t seen Blue Robin in weeks, and the two of them used to be inseparable!
I know some people send their children to therapy when they’re acting up, and until now, I never envisioned myself doing such a thing. It seems shameful somehow, an admission that you’re an unfit parent, one whose child has problems that you are incapable of handling on your own! Who know what will come of all this… Deb keeps hounding me for goat meat and won’t explain why. It’s troublesome. I once ate jerk-goat in Negril. Then Mr. Webster and I made love on the beach. We were on our honeymoon. It was lovely.
previously: Featured Bio – Mrs. Webster
previously: Deb Webster’s Creative Writing Homework: Flowetry
