Have I Created a Monster?

My sister Kelsey called the other day to tell me she was going to the Ludacris concert. She also mentioned that it was a 16 and up show. This presents a problem because she is 15. So being 28, I’m a bit removed from what it was like to be too young for anything as the only thing I’m too young for these days is an AARP card.

I think when she tells me these things, it’s her way of asking permission…or at least for a little guidance. I asked her how she was going to get in and she said she had a friend’s i.d.. I couldn’t argue with that as I’d done the same thing except I believe my i.d. said I was 21 and I don’t think I was trying to get into a concert. But this entry is about her, not me so we’ll just skim over that. I asked her if she could name one Luda song. She could not. I asked why she would risk a grounding of epic proportions for a singer whom she couldn’t pick out of a line-up. It was the classic 15-year-old explanation that a bunch of her friends were going. I was trying really hard not to launch into lecture mode as she’s telling me all of this. But, I felt it was my duty as her older sister to present the possible consequences of her actions – 1) she gets in with no problems, has a great time and has a fun story to relive with her friends when she old and dull like me 2) bouncer sees i.d. which is clearly not her and sends her on her way, sans friends as they are all 16 and she is then alone at the Filmore or 3) bouncer sees i.d. which is clearly not her and calls over the obligatory officer who then calls her parents and then she is dead. I don’t think she’d given much thought to the fact that the long arm of the law could get involved and this prospect gave her pause…for about 6 seconds. “Well, I’m still gonna try”, she said after she’s erased the thought of the cop calling our father. For reasons I still cannot explain, I told her to call me if anything happened. She thought this was a fantastic idea and then the conversation went like so -
Kelsey: Ok, if you have to come get me, your last name is Eickhorn and you’re my mom.
Me: Uh, no. If I have to come get you, they’ll want to see my i.d. to make sure I’m family and my i.d. will not say Eickhorn (thank god). So how about I just be your sister and you called me because your parents are out of town.
Kelsey: Oh yeah, that might be better.
Me: Yes, it might be.
Kelsey: Ok, I’ll call you later. Love you.
So at 11:45pm my cell rang last night. Thankfully, I hadn’t fallen asleep yet so I was coherent. She was calling from the car (friend’s, not patrol) saying she got in, had a wonderful time and was heading home. I felt a sense of relief knowing that she was safe and was happy that she called to let me know that. There was also that 15 year old in me who was thrilled that she pulled it off. I’d spent the better part of the night somewhat worried but also trying to remember what it was like to rebel a little at that age. And as Becki so eloquently put it, “She’s just sneaking into a concert. If she was shooting up heroine and screwing the band, you’d have real worries.” Truer words were never spoken.