A text from my Mum this morning. Not in triplicate, as they sometimes appear when she is trying to do something else as well as texting, but a single purposeful message. "Any chance you could all come for supper on WEd? I know its a school night, etc. No pressure." Well, just the teensiest bit of pressure in that she also texts that my brother and sister in law have already accepted the invitation. Wednesday? WEDNESDAY? My children are now back at school and we live an hour away. An hour and a half on a Wednesday evening. I text back, "Is it a special occasion?" I suggest my wicked Aunt (who is also going)'s 80th. She is not much over 70 and Joan Collins well-preserved. I am a wicked niece. My Mum texts straight back. She obviously isn't multi-tasking this morning. "Dad's 74th birthday".
I knew that. My papa's birthday is the 3rd of September, same as the papa in The Temptations song. Luckily mine isn't and never has been a rolling stone. I have been thinking about wondering out loud what we are doing for Dad's birthday, but what with my son's birthday, which for some reason required four cakes - one for the family, one for his school friends, one for the grown-ups' dinner party and one for his friend who is allergic to eggs - and my son's birthday party and the new term, I didn't get round to it. I take it on the chin in my text back to her. "Silly me," I text back. "What time are you eating?" If its 8 we're not going. Instantaneous beep: "7.30" I do the calculations in my head and realise my 7 year-old daughter who needs 12 hours sleep won't be in bed till 11. There must be an formula for an equation in which you put the age of the child over the amount of sleep normally required, multiply by the amount anticipated and work out how many grumpy hours you will have to endure the following day. My 10 year-old son isn't a sleeper so he'll be fine but its a hundred mile round trip for supper on a Wednesday, my whole family subjected to midweek homework, and the roadworks, fuel costs, other lame excuses... What am I THINKING? I have no idea how many more birthdays my Dad will have, I hope masses although I don't want to put a figure on it, but anyone with a 74 year-old parent will know the ball park I'm in with this. Of course we'll go, no question. I text back, "Lking fwd 2 it xx". Usually I text in proper English, fully punctuated but sometimes I do teenage texty lingo, just to show myself that I can.
5 comments:
Ah daughterly duties! How is it that we can grow up, marry, have children and still not say no to our own mums - or even ask them, why it is that can't change their grandchild's dirty nappy? hey ho, we love them anyway. but the real question is have you let your mum read this? and if so, is she still talking to you? and btw, surely you've not reached midlife at 38? i have no intention of reaching it until i'm well into my 50s.
Excellent! I'm lcking fwd 2cing more (that is 'licking' isn't it?)
Going to your Dad's on his birthday is a great present though. Otherwise what do you get a 74 year-old for his birthday? I prefered the days when at five or six years old I could get away with giving Dad a really nice pebble I'd found on the beach.
how was the party? Am impressed your mum does txts. Mine forgets to turn her mobile on and is upset that no one txts her. She's heading over for a lesson on Facebook tho!
flowerofscotland - yes she has read it and is still texting me, thank goodness. Re my mid-life at 38, yours in your 50s - is it the marathons that are going to make you live to 110? Or the wine? ;-)
girl heaven - the party was great thanks although I didn't really feel as if I was at it. I failed to compute that I would be feeding 28 people until it was too late. Silly cow.
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