When I was 16, I would drive my Scion TC to house parties in Diamondhead and blatantly ignore my mother's phone calls.
I would show up at my front door at 3 a.m., and Sissy would be furious at me. She had to work every morning at 6 a.m., and I would keep her up all night worrying and didn't even have the decency to apologize.
I thought I knew everything, and I did what I wanted. I had a terrible attitude.
And I was 16.
As many of us Tweeted #BringBeccaHome last night in an attempt to use social media to locate missing St. Martin softball player Becca Anderson, some of those same grown adults are using social media to crucify her today. Others are even using Becca's story to make jabs at President Obama--because that's totally significant and appropriate.
Becca's car is 7-years-old. Her parents went to authorities when she went missing, and now she is home. You don't know her family's story, and you don't know how severe the consequences will be.
Take a look at the skeletons in your own closet before you make fun of a teenager on social media.