Growing Pains
Nothing prepared us; there was no manual, no set of instructions to deal with the shift from girl to challenging everything teen. The door slam had been perfected to a fine art, powerful aftershocks felt through every pore of the old farmstead.
The testosterone fuelled environment lit the touch paper daily, even though the boys had learnt the art of laying low to ride out the storm.
There was no known cure for this normal stage of life. I was out of my depth.
Mother smiled when I asked for advice.
"Give it five years" the amused reply.
