(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.
9 comments:
this soft one of my soft spots. very nice.
sorry, that should have read, touched one of my soft spots. see how moved I was?
Awww!
Such a nice boy, Minx! It's not like you wouldn't have understood if he was distracted by the moment - lovely that he paused to say 'thank you' to Mum.
Those are the moments, to be sure. They're widely spaced in the ever-encroaching sea of despair and worry, but when they happen you know you haven't wasted your life, and that's a good thing. I can go for years on one gesture of respect or affection, or even one shred of evidence that I haven't been talking to the wall my whole life.
Of course, his name is Mudd now with his buddies. But it's all the sweeter for that. Great kid, Mom. Good job.
That's sweet. Sounds like a great kid. Congratulations!
Yes well, that was Friday, today he's a little shit!
Your last comment reminds me of Lisa, "another mum at the school" (as we are known). She calls her daughter Zoe "Kevin and Perry" (all one word) as she never knows what Zoe will be like from one hour to the next.
Sounds familiar!
Post a Comment