“Um, that’s kind of a lot,” said I, mostly thinking about how many hot dogs I’d need to buy for a pack of hungry teens.
“But I don’t know who I can cut!”
“Well, OK, but keep it to 20.”
She kept it to 26.
And of course, this is all my fault. I’m the one who’s been pressuring her to have friends over, to host movie nights, to throw parties, to do something, anything social. Unless her mostly Asian-immigrant crowd of friends are excluding her, the social life for her circle IMHO is dire.
“Believe me, your friends aren’t having fun. You can really bless them!” I’ve said over the past two years.
Several weeks ago, after her successful birthday party (the only time there’s an “excuse” to party), I suggested, “Why don’t you have friends over every week this summer? A movie night? A pool party? Anything!”
I’ve been the social life Tiger Mom, but all to no avail.
Because she actually considered my offer.
Now I’m having a minor panic attack because it wasn’t until 4:45 this morning that I considered what 20 hormonal teenagers and a pool can do, especially a murky pool because we’ve sprung a leak and can’t keep the water in balance. Nightmare visions of kids drowning and resting on the bottom of the pool unseen have been dancing in my head all morning.
Scott and I have been plotting, can we do a sign-in list? Should we do the buddy system? But there’s no way teens in bathing suits are going to remember to watch out for their buddy unless it’s a cute person of the opposite sex.
How am I going to grill, life-guard, drive Kai to a voice lesson in the middle of it all, and ensure safety? I feel like the quintessential reckless teen–so swept up in the social potential I’ve forgotten about sane adult responsibilities.
So pray for us if you’re reading this sometime between 11:15 and late afternoon.
I think I’m going to need every prayer I can get.