Whatcha doing, Andrew?

I'm telling you, this being in loco parentis stuff ain't easy.

You'll recall that a few months ago Andrew started showing off a girlfriend. A big moment in any lads life methinks, the first girlfriend. I still remember, vividly, that time of overcharged hormones and proprietary pride. Not PC these days? Nope. But a real feeling at the time nonetheless.

And you'll also recall that I, remembering that time of overcharged hormones, vividly as aforesaid, took certain steps[^] with a view to averting an unexpected step-grandchild from that particular quarter.

So fast forward to June and the long long (incredibly long to my way of thinking) summer holidays. It might have made sense, in the frontier days, to release kids from school for 3 months so they could work on the farm but I doubt video games and TV are half as productive.

Andrew and his girlfriend use the time, so they say, to watch movies up in his room. I confess to having trepidations about this, especially when the lights go out up there. You might be wondering, how do I know the lights go out if the door is closed? And there we have the second source of concern.

Thus to my wife and I, at random times throughout the evening, yelling up the stairs 'Andrew, what are you doing?'. I vary the formula sometimes by yelling 'Andrew, front and centre NOW!' followed by an ominous sounding 'tick, tick, tick'.

He emerges, sheepishly, and we dismiss him.

A few weeks ago he expressed annoyance at this rigamarole. I gave him various choices.

No girlfriend.
Don't bring her here.
Don't take her upstairs.
Don't close the door.
Put up with random inspection.

He puts up with random inspections.

No surprise there, eh?