Sedrick is a teenager; he’s rebellious. He wants to wander and explore. He wants a pair of scissors to cut my apron strings. Sedrick is causing me concern.
During the hours of 11pm and 6am, Sedrick put on his gummy shoes and escaped into the bowl I cleverly set below his jar for just such an eventuality. I mean, come on — I’ve raised two sons, and I know a bit about adolescent rebellion and wanderlust…the yeast is sweeter on the other side of the road and all that. But just like my sons, when they decide to go — they’re gone.
Sedrick is only half what he was before I wished him goodnight.
So, now what?