The Last to Know

Do you ever feel like you're the last to know? This feeling is becoming an increasing reality for me, speaking as a control freak, it's not working for me. I am aware that teenagers are supposed to grow up, they are supposed to spread their wings, and yes I know, that they don't let their moms in on every aspect of their lives. However, I come from a long line of mothers that made it their business to be in your business. I come by it naturally. So when I heard that my oldest, Braveheart, had a secret pact with her best friend ( a boy nonetheless) for the past four years, I was a bit put off. A pact that when she turned 16 and had a driver's license, that they would road trip off to Kentucky for pizza.

Now I ask you... when you think of Kentucky do you think of pizza? Not me. I think, the Bluegrass state, I think horse racing, but pizza? Immediately my mind started calling foul. There had to be something more... something not quite so random. Thank goodness for Google. I know it might seem irrational, neurotic or over-the-top but I had to. I had to google Kentucky Marriage Age.... Search. Hallelujah it's 18 and those applying for marriage in the state of Kentucky must also be residents.

Okay, okay, I now feel ridiculous. The two in question are just good friends and they probably just want pizza and a little adventure. I may seriously either become an alcoholic or have to be committed before these kids are grown.