On killing mom with kindness.

Alright, so, I’m a seventeen year old girl and my mother isn’t too fond with the idea of me going camping with a few of my friends at a campsite 40 minutes away from where I live.  She’s extremely religious and doesn’t like that there will be boys present.  There will be no adult supervision, but I know that we all will be perfectly fine.  How can I convince my mom to let me go?

Take out a clean sheet of paper and put this shit down in your best loopy-ass handwriting:

“Mom, I’ll always be your little girl, but I’m seventeen years old. As much as I must still seem like a child to you, I’m not. I’m a responsible young adult, and camping is a healthy recreational activity for people my age.

We both know you don’t have to worry about me doing anything inappropriate. You’ve raised a good girl, and you can count on me to make smart decisions. You also don’t need to worry about my friends. They’re good people too.

Still, I understand why you’re hesitant. It’s a co-ed trip, and it’s overnight. I get why that bothers you, but I’m no longer of an age where you’re protecting me by telling me I can’t go.

It’s your instinct as a parent. I respect that. In a lot of ways, I still appreciate it, but you have to start coming to terms with the fact that shielding me isn’t the best move anymore. It’s time for you to start trusting me to do the right thing, because you can. I think you know that.

Actually, I’m more concerned about how you’ll hold up when I go camping. I have a feeling you’ll be the one who stays up all night, and it’ll be because you’re so worried about me that you can’t sleep.

Well, when it’s past midnight and you’re lying awake terrified that I’m in some sort of trouble, I want you to remember this little note and laugh, because I’ll be the one tucked away in a sleeping bag fast asleep.

Seriously, mom. I may need a learners permit to drive, but you need a learners permit in letting me leave the nest.

Consider this camping trip your first lesson in letting me spread my wings.

Don’t worry. I won’t let you down.”

Sign that shit with love and hand it to her after a big greasy meal. Sit there with her while she reads it. Dress sharp, and give her your best church eyes.

Five bucks says the note makes her cry, and unless you’re an unwed teenage mother who’s done time in juvie, you will be going on that camping trip.

Have fun in the woods, and try not to end up in a police station or pregnant.


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