How to "sneak" Out of the House

If you asked my mom she would say that I was sneaking out. But I wasn't. I did tell her where I was going and with who, (and a very loose estimate of when I'd be back), but it was never until 5 or 10 minutes before leaving that I ever announced I was actually leaving. This was how I dealt with trying to lessen my parents' worrying in high school. In my brilliant teenager-mind I figured if I told them I was going to be out late with my friends I would tell them only a few minutes before leaving the house; this way they would spend less time worrying. I had learned that if I told them earlier on in the day they would:

1. Spend all day worrying
2. Spend all day nagging me with their worrying
3. Spend all day asking me "why? who? what? where? when?" (Y'know, all the questions EVERY high schooler loves to answer to)

It's not within the nature of teenagers (or any other young person in their 20's) to plan hang-outs with their friends hours before they happen. High schoolers don't plan their evenings like this "okay at 8:15 tonight we are going out for ice cream and then we'll be back by 9:45" over a plate of hot-lunch in the school cafeteria. Because first of all coming home before 10PM is just lame and everyone knows that. And secondly -- it's just not within their abilities. But somehow from whatever planet my parents were from, they thought that that was how teenagers function, and so this is how I would respond:

Me: Mom I'm going out now and I'll be back before midnight
Mom: With who? Why? When?
Me: With a friend, it's for school, and she's picking me up in a few minutes. She's on her way. 
Mom: [silently thinking]
Me: Okay? Okay she's here. Bye. 
Mom: BRING YOUR KEYS! AND YOUR PHONE! And don't sit in the front if your friend is driving! 

One time I had cut the timing a bit too close. I was in my room getting dressed and my friend had pulled up to the house before I was ready. As I was on my way out the door I noticed that my mother was in the kitchen, all the lights were off, a phone was clutched in her hand, and she was peering out the kitchen window. In my 16 year-old mind I thought why is mom being sooo super sketchy?
Me: Mom what the hell are you doing?
Mom: Shhh.. quiet, someone is in our driveway. 
Me: What? [not immediately realizing that the someone was just my friend]
Mom: I think I should call the police

I rolled over closer to the window and burst out laughing,
"Mom, that's my friend M and we're going out for ice cream. I'll be back before midnight. Just relax mom." 

 As high school went on I think my parents began to realize that there were only so many ways and so many things that they could possibly keep me safe from. Whether it was prom night, teenage drivers, teaching your daughter's teenage friends how to fold her manual wheelchair, or just trusting a 17 year-old to carry your OI'er daughter -- this was a time when my parents realized the things I could do vs. the things I wanted to do. More specifically it became apparent to them that the things I wanted to do were usually things that I would have to figure out on my own. No amount of worrying or hovering would be able to let them know whether or not my friend was carrying me the right way, or if I would be able to transition from my friend's car to my wheelchair safely. Of course it isn't until now, as an adult, that I realize not only was I growing into independence but so were my parents -- they were slowly beginning to learn how to be independent from me. 

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