Teenagers that is.
Since Thursday I have been the mother of three of them. God help me if the row we have just witnessed over Sunday dinner between the two youngest is any indication of what I am in for over the next few hormone fuelled years.
I would have said before I got home today that I have been very lucky with my kids as teenage wise they haven’t really been any trouble. I am told they are nice polite kids by other adults in the village. The police have never needed to trouble me over them. There have never been any serious difficulties in school. I really like all their friends. We have a laugh together. And I trust my kids not to do anything stupid….or at least I did do.
To be honest I am actually grateful that D (17) told me all about how when watching England fail to beat Macedonia yesterday afternoon he decided to drink cider mixed with lager and topped up with blackcurrant cordial. I am also fairly impressed that he cleaned up after himself when he was violently sick in the front garden. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been in a hurry to tell my mum about my first misadventure with alcohol over indulgence, had I not in fact got horribly drunk aged 16 on port and lemon at home – dangers of growing up in a pub I’m afraid. She knew fully well how sick I was as she got to witness it first hand. I have not touched port since that day, nor will I ever do so. Anyway, I didn’t tell him off. Rightly or wrongly I think he has probably suffered enough for one day.
The other two HAVE however been told off as I was well fed up that after two and a half hours of cooking they have a stupid argument and spoil it for everyone else. I am now refusing to let them on the computer – positively my most favourite punishment – I get to use it! Clouds with silver linings strike again.
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