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It’s funny, but I’ve become those I once decried. Roles have reversed, responses switched.

Now I am the protective ogre, worried about the intentions of the unknown characters in our children’s midst.

I’m the one warning them about lurking dangers, and the importance of focusing diligently on the task at hand for the sake of their futures.

Forgetting my own impatient youth, I now petition them to save themselves for the right person at the right time, and not be beguiled by transient beauty or desire.

Purposefully ignoring all of my own teenage angst and longlasting regrets, I discover myself the protector I once despised.

My only hope: that I handle it better. But it turns out that may just be an impossible task.