Rebel

I sometimes worry (not too much, but a little) about what it will be like to have two teenage daughters. Will they rebel? Will they drink vodka cruisers and have inappropriate boyfriends? Will they have a penchant for death metal and piercings? I'm sure the answer will be varying degrees of yes for at least several of these possibilities.
But then, I just looked out the kitchen window, suspicious that Mari had been a little too quiet outside for the past few minutes. But no, she wasn't setting fire to the pear tree or torturing gold fish.

She was windex-ing the outside table.

I'm good for a few more years at least.