The 3rd Child

I can proudly say I am the parent (owner, master, supreme being) of a teenager.

Our cat, Dexter.

Dexter the Cat stays out late every night with his buddies. Each night when I let him in, I can't help but think that I'm raising a teenager. I'm coming close to grounding him for breaking curfew. But what should his curfew be? Joe thinks it should be 9:00, when our other children are getting ready for bed, but I'm the push-over and have been letting Dexter stay out until 12:30. Am I a bad mom?

Since we moved to a bigger home where Dex can run and play outside, I noticed he has made more friends in the neighborhood than Caitlynn and Miles. Every day, Dex heads outside to play after he eats breakfast. More often than not, I see at least one other cat hanging around our back porch, basking in the sun. A few times, this cat has come to our door looking for Dex, as if to say, "Can Dexter come out and play, Mrs. G?" And I find myself looking for Dexter... Hey! Your buddy is here!

What is wrong with me? He's a cat, right?

Perhaps this is giving me experience on how to raise a teenager. Before I know it, Caitlynn will be a teen, asking to hang out with her friends at the mall and going on dates with boys. I even discussed this with her, but I don't think she realizes what's in store as a teen, either. She shot a surprised look at me ... "I'll get to go to the mall by myself?!" Now, she's counting the days until she's in junior high when hanging out with friends outside of home and school is the cool thing to do.

For now, Dexter the Cat is my teenager -- cruising the neighborhood, flirting with girls, knocking down trashcans, and killing baby birds. If I start seeing bandanas or tattoos, I'll start to worry. Otherwise, I'll leave him alone. He's a good kid... cat. He's a good cat.








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