Thursday, August 16, 2007

WHEN 'SORRY MUM I FORGOT' DOESN'T WORK ANY MORE

Dear Lara,

You're 11 years old, 12 this November, and you never seem to amaze your father and I with your carefree, happy go lucky, ways.

We look at each other and shake our heads when we see your new tennis racket left out overnight in the wet grass without its cover and we sigh deeply in unison when you tell us you've left your new Speedo Swimsuit behind at the pool and there is no sign of it now. We roll our eyes as far back into our heads as they will go when we examine the large black slug like creature that's been residing down the bottom of the garden for the past week which turns out to be your inside out, new, black wet suit. We shake our heads in disbelief, stick our fingers in our ears and say 'NO, NO, NO' when you tell us that your €350 new, only used five times, adult sized Land-rover Discovery Bike has been robbed from our front garden. And finally when you tell us you have left your new PSP worth €250 in a brown paper bag on the airplane we were on last month your father and I have to put our head in our hands and weep because we'd prefer you were telling us that you'd met a guy, you'd fallen in love, were pregnant, about to give birth, right there and then, you know, like NOW, because finally you'd have given us a good enough reason to send you to your bedroom and ground you there until you're 21 years old and have remembered' NOT TO FORGET'.



Today you asked me if you could borrow my Apple Mac computer. My white, ever so girly, shiny computer that your Father bought me for my birthday last November. If you could bring it over to the Den where all the kids around here hang out, especially on rainy days. You cried big fat tears that landed on my heart and melted it and for an instant, I broke down and complied.

"OK, but only if you PROMISE to bring it back to me the minute you've put your friends addresses onto your Bebo Site and not let ANYBODY ELSE USE IT"

You promised and one and a half hours later when there was not sign of you I went over to the den to see what was taking you so long as it seemed to me that writing down the information you required on paper would have been quicker than using the thousands of rams in my Apple Mac.

And there you were on a couch, watching TV, in the den. 2 guys playing pool. 2 girls playing table tennis and 3 of the coolest teenage girls around here siting on the floor giggling over a white Apple Mac Laptop balancing precariously on top of one of the girls knees. MY WHITE APPLE MAC LAPTOP. MINE

OHMIGOD.

More big fat tears from you. Lots of them. You were embarrassed I came into the den and took my computer away from those girls but I FIGURE, YOU DON'T REALLY CARE, SO GUESS WHAT? NEITHER DO I. HA HA HA

Your Father and I are going to have to sit down together and come up with a plan to make you more considerate about the treatment and care of your belongings and more importantly of the things that you borrow belonging to others. I 'm not sure what to do, what will work, but I'm thinking that taking your brand new Goodyear trainers away for a week would work fine or making you come home at 9pm instead of 10.30pm. I can halve or stop your pocket money and then there are always things I can do for your more serious misdemeanors like; I can dress up in an Abercrombie belly top t-shirt, short shorts with ugg boots and messy up-style with pearl earrings and INSIST on hanging around with you and your friends.

YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME? JUST TRY ME

BET YOU WON'T FORGET THAT

Love Mum XXX

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