I used to think that Keri and I had an adorably dysfunctional old married couple dynamic. But tonight she locked herself away in her bedroom for two hours as I cleaned the house, cooked dinner, and thumbed through Better Homes and Gardens. I went to check on her (read: begged her to hang out with me) and she said she'd be down in "just a second" and asked me to start her dinner. Ladies and gentlemen, I am officially the mother of teenager*.
In other news, remember the bruise/double scrape that I've been afflicted with? (Not to mention the eye... oh dear god the eye!) Add to the list a burned wrist from taking my disgusting chicken dinner out of the oven. Not a good week for Allison's left appendages.
*Okay, a real teenager would have been playing WoW while skyping and blaring music. My teenager neglected me to blog about the freaking Dred Scott decision.