Teenagers and Free Time

So, I was just pulling into the parking lot of the ballfield to watch my middle son's first game of the season. It had been one of those, "schedule's full, everything has to happen like clockwork" kind of days--my partner had dropped him off early for last minute practice, then dropped our oldest (15) at home (who was then supposed to hop on his bike and head to piano lessons). My partner was then off to a scheduled consultation for the remainder of the evening. I then picked up my youngest and was to get to the game. Anyway, I pull into the lot and the cell rings--it's my partner telling me that our oldest had called him from home, saying cryptically, "Uh...you need to come home." (WHY?) "Uh...just come home." Details emerge like molasses pouring in Fairbanks in January. Upshot: bored, our son decided to continue on an art project in his room which apparently involved breaking bottles (something we'd told him already not to do--because apparently we had to tell him not to break bottles in his bedroom). Glass breaks, is unpredicatble and cuts skin on one's right forearm quite nicely. A great neighbor is on hand to come over and bandage the suddenly humbled child. I had time to watch my middle son get one hit, then I was off to the house which, by the time I arrived, looked like a crime scene. After thanking, thanking, thanking my wonderful neighbor, I advised my son to check "serial killer" from his future goals since clean up after carnage seems to have escaped him. The reminder of the term, "natural consequences" chased away my impulse to say "I told you so, you..." Six stitches (and a missed piano lesson) later, we have learned a valuable lesson in our household. One would hope.

Oh, and my middle son's team won their game, 9-0. Wish I could have seen it.