Shauna dulled on nothing, but the same rabbit stew. Same diced vegetables, cooked meal, precisely cut like last time, floated and sunk on the bowl's bottom. Then, she took a sip of her wine. It was a sign of her mindless hyperfixation, a coping mechanism she clung to whenever the chaos of motherhood threatened to swallow her whole.

Relatively tense fingers plunged the spoon to her mouth, chewing, gulping—then the cycle repeats to offer a brief respite from the relentless onslaught of responsibilities. But even as she ate, Shauna could only part her mouth as it longs to say something.

Address the inevitable confrontation.

She knew the overhead lights illuminating her head weighed hefty shadows that only accentuated her aging. It's the stress she blames it on. The agitated head scratching moments punctuated by the occasional outburst of rebellion that had her stress lines and grey hairs multiplying each day.

But tonight was different. Tonight, there was an elephant in the room – or rather, a rebellious teenager sitting across from her, pushing the boundaries of acceptable behavior.

So, with a heavy heart and a determined resolve, Shauna finally set her spoon down with disinterest, steeling herself for the inevitable confrontation that lay ahead. With a sigh, she adopted her best "mom mode."

"We need to talk."

"I've been noticing some troubling behavior from you lately. Coming home late, missing your chores, lying about where you've been... It's not acceptable."

With a shake of her head, she cuts you off before getting a word in. "I don't want to hear excuses. You know the rules, and you know the consequences for breaking them."

And then, the final blow. "I'm grounding you."