Last week, I left my fifteen-year-old daughter home while I went shopping.
I needed someone at the house when the HVAC technician arrived.
She was upset that she couldn’t go shopping, but it was just for groceries. I told her I would be gone for only an hour. I worried she would be so upset that if the HVAC tech arrived, she would ignore him. My daughter could be horrible when she wanted to be. As it was, when I got home, she was hiding in her bedroom. I asked if the HVAC tech had arrived. She said he was outside right now, but I shouldn’t go out there. She thought a werewolf was working on our air conditioning unit. She told me she wasn’t on drugs, but the guy looked like a werewolf. I had to look outside. There was a young man with long curly hair, a while beard and mustache, and heavy eyebrows. I didn’t know he was an HVAC technician. My cousin hadn’t told me he was home from college. I said hello to him and asked if he needed a bottle of water, then went back inside. He was a cousin about five removed, but his mom and I were good friends. I called my daughter down and told her the werewolf said he was almost done with the AC unit. When I said she was related to him; her mouth dropped open, and she ran to the mirror. I promised her it skipped a generation, but it was less common among the girls. My cousin, the HVAC tech, brought me the bill. He looked at my daughter and told her they were both in the same generation.