Great, the internet was out again. Now I had no excuse to not do the chores around the house. I started in the bathroom, vacuumed the hallways, and worked my way to the kitchen. I noticed my teenage daughter, Karla, sitting on the couch, taking rapid-fire snapchats of herself. Oh nice! She was blowing the data usage sky-high again!
“Hey!” I called. “Instead of bothering your friends with those goofy pictures, why don’t you come clean up your room.”
“Eh, maybe later” she replied, shrugging her shoulders and continuing to take pictures.
“That wasn’t a question.” I replied sternly. “Now quit killing the data and get to your room. I’ll even help you out so you aren’t in there until you’re a crotchety old lady.”
“What, like mom?” She replied, giggling, as she made her way down the hall to her room.
“Watch it! Your mom is not old and crotchety. She is young and vibrant and beautiful and I love her!”
“Uh huh,” she said sarcastically, “I see the way you look at her in her dresses made of trash bags”
I followed her into her room. It looked like a teenage underwear factory had been nuked, and this was ground zero.