This morning I reached peak “parent with a teenager”.
By the time she’d appeared from her pit, I had consumed the morning brew, put a wash on and been for a run and shower.
Deciding on the need for a change of scenery, we took a drive down to Glasson Dock, parked up amongst the growing throng of bikers and had a lovely stroll along an increasingly hot canal path.
She chattered away about her future plans, told me everything that was wrong with the world and expanded on her rolling plans for the reformation of the state educational system.
I mainly nodded, pointed out dragonflies and let my fingers drift through the flowering rushes whilst simultaneously intermittently marvelling at the brilliance of lock gates, yet resisting the urge to open any.
The afternoon drifted by with a book in the backyard. The evening rounded out with a double bill of Hot Fuzz and Point Break (she’d already seen Bad Boys 2).