A few nights ago, The Boy came home with four friends to spend the night. Just before bedtime, the kids went out. A little while later, The Boy came back alone.
"Where did your friends go?" I asked.
"They wanted to go for a walk," he said.
"Really? Or are they doing drugs?"
"Are you going to be a cool mom or are you going to chastise them?"
"I won't say anything to them. They have the good sense not to do it in the house, and made a point of not even being near the house."
"They don't do anything worse than pot. That's in fact all they do."
"You're not doing it with them?"
"I can't tell you how much I am against drugs of any kind. Really, you don't have to believe me. I've tried pot, but I don't do it."
"I believe you."
The thing is, a part of me wanted to ask where the kids got their pot from, and whether they could get me some. But I refused to cross the line. I wanted to remain authoritarian parent. So I didn't pursue the subject any more. The kids came back, went to bed, and all was well the next day.
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`Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?'
`That depends a good deal on where you want to get to,' said the Cat.
`I don't much care where--' said Alice.`Then it doesn't matter which way you go,' said the Cat.
`--so long as I get somewhere,' Alice added as an explanation.
`Oh, you're sure to do that,' said the Cat, `if you only walk long enough.'
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`In that direction,' the Cat said, waving its right paw round, `lives a Hatter: and in that direction,' waving the other paw, `lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they're both mad.'
`But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
`Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat: `we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
`How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
`You must be,' said the Cat, `or you wouldn't have come here.'
Alice didn't think that proved it at all; however, she went on `And how do you know that you're mad?'
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