“Mabel Dawn Paul, are you listening?”
“To my app, I am.”
“Mabel.App off.Phone down.”
Her sigh was long and dramatic, but she did as she was told.
I glanced at my watch.“What time is it?”
“I don’t know because you made me put my phone down.”
I refused to bite at her teenage snark and just leveled her with my best dad-stare.“It is 9:03.You know the rules.No technology after nine.You may read, or engage in stimulating conversation with your adoring and adorable father, but as far as the phone, television, tablet, or any other tech device besides your e-reader, those are off-limits until ten tomorrow.”
My daughter’s nostrils flared.
“Have you showered?”
“I did while you were out.”
“Would you like to ask me about my day and how the meet and greet at the school went?”
“No.”
“Well, in an effort to educate you on social normalcies, I suggest you fake it and ask me.”
Her jaw clenched.“How was your …thing?”
Oh the sarcasm.She might not always understand it when someone else did it, but my kid was surprisingly good at dishing it out.
Grinning at her like she’d asked me of her own volition and because she wanted to, I scratched my head and shrugged.“I think it went well.I spoke with a few parents and, from what I could gather, everyone seems eager to have new administrative blood in the school.I know all about my predecessor.So I think as long as I don’t torture the children, or allow you to torture them, everyone will be happy.”
“Why would you bring your blood to school?And I don’t even go to the school, so I couldn’t torture them.”
“It was a figure of speech.The old principal wasoldblood.And because I’m new, I’mnewblood.And his grandson was a menace at the school and got away with everything.I’m just using it as an example.”
Mabel shrugged.“Well, if you want to be exact with your example, it would bemychild that tortured the other students.And I don’t have a child, so that is impossible.I don’t even know if I will have children.And definitely not as young as you did.Can I go to my room now?”
With a defeated sigh, I nodded.“Yes, you may.”So much for stimulating conversation with her adoring, adorable father.My kid couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
My childhood was anything but normal, but all my reading, research, and discussions with other parents of neurodivergent teenagers, and just teenagers in general, told me that this was normal behavior.Hopefully, one day she’d see me as more than just the provider of food, a roof, clothes, and money.Hopefully.
She left her phone on the coffee table, but took her notebook and binoculars.
“Did you see the barred owl?”I called after her as she made her way down the hall toward her bedroom.
“What do you think?”she snapped back.
I sighed again, got up from the couch, and went to grab another slice of lasagna.
There wasn’t a person alive that would say raising teenagers was a walk in the park and something they recommended—maybe to their worst enemy—but raising a twice exceptional child with not only an autistic diagnosis but a gifted one as well, was not for the faint of heart.Mabel was, in short, a genius.She was thirteen, almost fourteen, and almost finished the eleventh grade.Conventional school didn’t work for her, and hadn’t since she was eight.So I homeschooled her.She belonged to an online school for neurodivergent gifted children.And just for shits and giggles, because she wanted the challenge and stimulation, she audited a few college classes as well.
Her goal was to become a veterinarian and open a wild bird recovery center.I wasn’t sure how she planned to make money at this recovery center, since she’s said the idea of opening it up to the public for monetization sounded about as appealing as sewing needles jammed under her fingernails, but I didn’t doubt for a second that my gifted child would figure it out.
With a sigh fit for a man twice my age, I collapsed back onto the couch with my second slice of lasagna and doomscrolled for half an hour.
Tomorrow was the first day of my new role as principal of a small elementary school.I’d been a teacher for a few years now, specializing in special needs.Then I became vice principal, and was acting interim principal at my last school for three months while my superior went on maternity leave.
But circumstances that I actively didn’t think about because they gave me hives and made me panic-sweat prompted me to look for a position and residency on the opposite side of the country.
