Waking mama bear

You know how parents always tell their teens "if you're ever in situation where you feel uncomfortable, call me and I'll come get you, no matter what"?  Yep, I got that call last week. Lauren had headed out with some friends to go to an amusement park a couple of hours away.  Within an hour, she started texting me:  

whoa, he's driving 115 mph

he won't slow down.  

wait, he slowed down to 100.

now they're making fun of me for wanting to go slower.

(at this point I want their phone numbers so I can give them a good verbal shaking but then I don't want them to talk on the phone AND drive over 100)

(or to call the highway patrol and get them pulled over)

(or--better yet--to actually shake some sense into them)

This is scary. But we're almost there. 

Will you come and get me so I don't have to drive home with them?

Well, of course. The mama bear in me roared and I went and got her, adrenaline surging. Glad she told me (and it was actually even worse than she had let on), relieved she was okay, and peeeeeeved with the risk-taking crazy boys who will--rest assured--never chauffeur my girl again.  I was so angry at their stupidity.  (And also? I have never had to retrieve her from anywhere when she was with her friends from school.  These were church friends. Sheesh.)

L kept apologizing on the way home.  I assured her that we would go ANYWHERE to make sure she was safe.  That's why there's a little mama bear cave in the heart of every mom, holding a protective and fierce creature whose first words upon waking from her hibernating slumber are DON'T MESS WITH MY CHILD.

Then I told her about the time I jumped out of a moving Volkswagen van when I was 16 (something about wanting to get out but the boy wouldn't pull over).  Silly teenage brains.