Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Abby is 18. I know this. Still, her decision to take the train from SeaTac down to Lumen to hang out with friends in the footprint of the Taylor Swift concert aura caused me no small amount of stress last night. Part of it is I just know she isn't as street wise as I was when I was her age. I rode the bus regularly through Rainier Beach as a kid, not infrequently, and always alone. I saw more crazy things by the time I was her age then she can know. When I expressed concern about her plan, she countered with, "I used to ride the train every day to go to school." This is true. She did.  From the U-District station to the first stop downtown. For context, that is like going to the petting zoo where they give out free cotton candy versus going to a hunting park dressed in a meat suit and armed only with a kazoo.  

So, she left last night around 7, drove to the SeaTac Park and Ride, an adventure in itself, and got off down at the stadium stop. At around 10:00 I texted asking when she would be heading home. She was with friends and didn't know, she responded (quite quickly, truth be told).  She texted again, at 11:10 to tell me she was on her way home. This was just about the time I had an alert there was a shooting at 4th and Lander. I didn't tell her about it or that I was worried.  At 12:00 a.m., she was still not home, and I was impatiently waiting for the police to call. I vowed to myself that I would not text her again until 1220. I waited as long as I could, 12:19, and texted asking for an ETA. She arrived home about 10 minutes later, and quite sweetly announced she was home. I talked to her briefly--she met four friends, I thought she was going to see just one. She had a great time. 

Entry 2

I easily persuaded Abby to let me drive her to the light rail station, which was so packed with Swifties that she never could have parked herself. The bad news is I have to pick her up at 1 a.m.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life, A Cascading Series of Disappointment

Still Muddling Through Somehow

Don't Do It, Don't Do It, Oh, Lord