I’m the father of four children—three daughters and a son. My oldest, Stephanie, is 18. Then there’s Ryan, who’s 17, Amanda, 13, and Emma, 9.
Several months ago, I came home from work one evening and decided to order pizza for dinner. After my wife placed the order, I asked Stephanie to take the car and pick it up. Amanda wanted to tag along, and before long, little Emma wanted to go too. I told Amanda it was fine to help her sister, but I asked Emma to stay home, get washed up, and get ready for bed before the pizza arrived. Emma started to throw a little fit but soon realized it wasn’t going to work.
Stephanie and Amanda walked past me and headed out the door toward the garage. Emma disappeared, and I assumed she went upstairs to get ready for bed. About ten minutes later, my cell phone rang, and I saw Stephanie’s number on the screen. Like most parents, my first thought was the worst—maybe she’d been in an accident.
To my surprise, it was Emma on the other end, her voice tearful and drawn out.
“Daaaaad, I need to tell you something,” she said.
“Oh yeah, Emma? What’s that?” I asked.
“Daaaaad, I snuck out the side door and went with Stephanie. I’m sorry. Am I going to be in trouble?”
I took a breath and said, “Well, Emma, I’m glad you called. We’ll talk about it when you get home.”
When the girls returned with the pizza, Emma was nervous and went straight upstairs to get washed up. We had dinner, and later, when I went to tuck the girls into bed, I sat down on Emma’s bed to talk to her.
“Emma, why did you sneak out?” I asked.
“I wanted to go with Stephanie and Amanda,” she said.
“Did you know you were being disobedient?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
“How does it feel to be disobedient? Good or bad?” I asked.
“Bad,” she said softly, her eyes fixed on the blankets.
I paused and said, “You know what, Emma? It must have taken a lot of courage to call me and tell the truth.”
Her face lit up with a grin. I hugged her and tucked her in. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”
I’m not sharing this story to boast about my parenting skills or to pretend I’m some kind of “Parent Guru.” Heaven knows that, with four “women” in the house, I’ve had my fair share of screw-ups!
She had a sparkle in her eyes when I praised her courage as opposed to a lecture about sneaking out. What mattered most was acknowledging her courage to call me.
Of course, if she gets caught sneaking out as a teenager...well, all bets are off!
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