Well, she's up.  Frantically preparing to go off and do whatever it is teenage girls do nowadays.  Probably to hang out with her friends at the mall or one of their houses.  Never here.  Nope.

Scramble to the bathroom.  I hear water splashing.  She's probably making mess.  Again.  I should say something I suppose.  It never seems to help, though.  Not like she'll listen this time.

Back to her room.  She's so energetic.  And yet, sometimes, she gets so serious.  It's like she's two different people. Like she has two lives or something.  I don't know.  I guess I'll never really know.  After all, it's not like she talks to me or anything.

And back to the bathroom.  I wonder who her friends are.  I've never met them.  I doubt I'll ever hear about them except in vague references between meals on odd days.  She and I haven't gotten along all that well.  Maybe it's my fault.  Maybe it's hers.  Maybe both.

To her room once more.  She is my daughter.  I love her even though we don't speak to one another regularly.  Either she's off somewhere or I am.  When we do see each other, conversation is usually limited to scolding her for forgetting a chore or getting another low mark on another quiz.  She says she's studying, though.  Maybe I shouldn't worry so much.  Maybe.

Dash to the refrigerator to wolf down something.  Hopefully, it's something good for her and not junk food.  She does eat regularly, though, at school and while she's out.  Once, she commented that one of her friends was a great cook and she loved her cooking.  I wonder if my cooking is as good.  She keeps the door open while she eats.  Maybe I should say something about wasting electricity.

Kicks the door shut as she reaches for a glass.  One day that door is going to fall right off.  I've said that before too.  She gulps down some water from the tap and leaves the glass in the sink.  She really ought to wash it and put it away.

At the door, slipping on some shoes.  I call out to her and she looks up.  She's waiting for one of a dozen things she knows is coming.  I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind.

"Be careful out there, okay?"

Mild surprise, then she smiles.  It's been a while since she smiled like that, I think.  She comes over to me and hugs me.  I hug her back.  When was the last time we hugged like this?  I can't remember.

"Sure thing, Mom."

Out the door, closing it carefully for once.  I look down.  She really shouldn't walk in the house with her shoes on.  It really is exasperating.  Maybe I'll mention it to her next time.

But for now, I'm gonna keep this smile going as long as I can.

Author's Notes: This was my fourth Sailor Moon fanfic. I wanted to do another story from a parent's point of view, but I didn't want it to sound exactly like the first. This was a personal challenge of sorts, to make this story "sound" different from the last. I believe it worked out.

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