Friday, June 16, 2006
(well, only two actually, I was in a bit of a rush)
I have just dropped Big Fecker off at the beach for the Party of the Century.
I tried to ignore the crates of beer that were being loaded into the back of the truck and I opened the windows as the 'great unwashed' piled in. I switched to selective deafness as my car music was hi-jacked and I refused to understand the hooded comments as to whether someone had remembered their stash! Oh God, is it sixteen years since I brought this child into the world!
Where, oh where, did I go wrong?
We arrived at the chosen spot and a hundred oiks pounced on the birthday boy dragging him, and the booty, off to somewhere I probably don't want to go.
I looked over the three miles of golden sand and wallowed in my misery of lost motherhood.
As I went to pull out of the carpark Big Fecker tapped on the window.
'Forgot to say thanks mum, you're so cool.'
Then I remembered that I hadn't gone wrong at all.