Recently we discovered you had climbed out the living room window and left it swinging in the wind at 10.30pm to go and meet up with your friends. We now know that you were only 100 yards from the house but in our imagination you were pregnant and had eloped on the 11pm train to set up home in Galway with your new boyfriend where you would live for the rest of your life on welfare.
Since then it's been hard to get you come home after school for your dinner and move things like, you know, your coffee cup in the general direction of the dishwasher. The fact that at 5'8" you are one whole inch taller than me means that the physical dynamics of our relationship have changed and you would be a clear winner in any head-butting competition we happened to engage in.
Last week you went out when I specifically told you not to and tonight you have not returned home even as I tap this out at 8.30pm. So here's the deal.
In the morning you will be given a key to the back door to come and go as you please.
Instead of looking on this key as just that, a key, I'd like you to look on it as a sword because honey like a sword this key is double edged. Once you have this key in your possession you'll find the following will happen:
No pocket money for you.
You'll have to do your own laundry.
All items, cups, pots, pans, plates, knives and forks and clothes you leave around the house will be deposited into your bedroom.
After one month, and not before, you will have the opportunity to return this key and everything will go back to normal.