I'll Take It

It was one of those typical fights with a teenager. You know, the kind that get so ugly no one can tell who the teenager is?
It was over hotdog buns, if you can believe it.
Her friend was in the room and saw the whole thing. He had a look of eager anticipation, like he was waiting for one of us to ask his opinion on the matter, or to possibly choose sides.
Not happening.
(In our family, reaching outside the fight as it's happening to call for back-up is a sign of weakness. If you cannot fight the battle on your own, you've already lost.)
Later, I was still stewing over the fight, and though I knew the friend would have given his honest opinion of the argument as I drove him home, I have strict rules about discussing parenting and/ or my marriage with my kids' friends, so I had to stew in silence.
Instead, we discussed his tutoring my kids in math over the summer, and his varying work schedule.
Then I received a text-

"Dear parental unit:
im very sorry i said disrespectful things 2 u.
I was very stressed out.
But thats no excuse.
I hope u can forgive me.
I love u!"