Sandy's Say: End Of An Era
...As an afterthought, I added, I hope that there are some ethics to go with this suave, new appearance. I don't want to be a grandmother too soon, you know…
Sandy James squares up to the realisation that her son is now a man.
We are fast approaching the end of an era in our family and I can sense the dynamics changing. Our son is about to finish school - forever. While he is counting down the final days and remaining exams, I am ticking off the last packed lunches and ironed school shirts. After eighteen years, my freedom is so close that I can almost smell it.
To celebrate this epic milestone the school has organised two functions. The first is a black tie, valedictory dinner which the parents are expected to attend.The second is the school formal, to which the parents are most definitely not invited. In preparation for these occasions, my son nonchalantly sauntered into the kitchen last week, resplendent in his first proper suit and tie. I was astounded by his transformation. He had scrubbed up remarkably well and I could not disguise my admiration.
"What?" he said, with a broad grin. "You've gone all white."
"I'm shocked, "I answered." You're suddenly such a ... a MAN. As your mother, I shouldn't say this but you do look extremely handsome." As an afterthought, I added," I hope that there are some ethics to go with this suave, new appearance. I don't want to be a grandmother too soon, you know."
From his lofty heights he patted me condescendingly on the head. "Will fifty do?" the cheeky stirrer enquired. By my calculations, that gives me roughly two years' grace.
"What exactly are you going to wear?" he asked, suddenly less jovial. I know what he is really saying. Whatever I do I must not stand out or embarrass him; nothing too revealing or too bright. I am required to blend into the background, behave and not draw attention to myself. I know the drill. It's been like this ever since I was declared "persona non cool" over a decade ago.
He does not realise what a soul destroying effort it has been so far, trying to find an appropriate outfit. There was a time, back in the last century (literally), when a dress would sometimes look better on me than on the hanger but sadly the reverse is now the norm. In an effort to find a demure- yet -not- frumpy, dress I even ventured into Sydney's Chinatown. This proved most depressing as my Australian 'size 12' converted to an Asian 'extra large.' On the way home I passed a Muslim shop selling burqas. Now there's a thought.... If I was incognito would I still be required to behave myself?
It turns out that, apparently, I don't have to worry about becoming a granny after all. It was four year old Angus, from next door, who informed me of this fact. I have been Angus's instant best friend ever since he discovered a veritable cache of toys and story books in the cupboard under my stairs. They are left over from the days when I looked after multiple children in my home. It's a free toy library, as far as Angus is concerned.
"Why are you keeping all these toys?'" asked Angus."You don't need them anymore." Four year olds are not much good at disguising ulterior motives. He was angling to have me donate the whole lot to him.
"Because one day I will be a granny and I am keeping them for my grandchildren, "I replied.
"That's silly, "he answered."Everybody knows that only girls can make babies and you don't have a daughter so that means you are never going to be a grandma anyway."
**
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