Life with teenagers

It's never a good thing when your doorbell rings at 11:00 p.m. I was naked and Mike was asleep, so Noah (armed with a knife) was the first one to the door.  It was the police, looking for Sarah.  She had rear-ended an old man a couple hours earlier, and it had seemed like no big deal, since she just rolled into his car at a red light and neither car had damage. But then the old man later went to the police complaining of back pain. So the cop questioned Sarah, who answered him cool as a cucumber, as always.  Not even the police intimidate her.

Meanwhile, Noah's buddy next door had texted him that the police were in front of our house.  Everyone went out to inspect the car for damage.  The officer noticed the dent in the door and asked about it.  Mike said, "Oh, that was from when she got in a fender bender in the Walmart parking lot a couple weeks ago."  (I'm still dealing with the insurance claim on that one.) Then the cop noticed the damage on the other side and thought it was related to this incident, and Mike explained, "No, that was from when she hit a pole in Deer Creek a couple months ago."  She drives just like I did at that age.

When it was all over, the police gone, and everyone back inside, Mike said, "That cop had a really nice flashlight."  Noah guffawed and said, "THAT'S your takeaway from this whole situation?"

Somehow in all the crazy, someone had left the door open all night and Shadow, our indoor cat, had gotten out.  Sarah got up this morning and found the door open, so she shut it.  When Shadow didn't appear for treats, Mike opened the door, and Shadow came busting in, crying about his ordeal.