A very strange thing has happened in our household of late. The teenager has taken to regularly heading out of the house way before I am up, to go and attend breakfast meetings where he meets pretty important moovers and shakers all as part of his work for a London youth charity. To my shame he returned from one such meeting a couple of weeks ago while I was still in my pyjamas and nursing a cup of coffee, as well as a hangover. The reason? A friend and I (collective age 72) had gatecrashed a 21st birthday party the night before, some would say not very appropriate behaviour for a mother in the suburbs.
The evening had of course started off very civilised, a picnic with bubbles and open air theatre. Just a quick nightcap turned into an evening of dancing to music I had never heard off, drinking jagerbombs and gossiping with lovely, earnest young students who had taken us under their wing and invited us into the party in the first place.
I thought that motherhood would put a stop to such late night shenanigans but it turns out that as long as I know daddy is on overnight duty I am happily able to let my hair down, albeit once in a blue moon. Needless to say the teenager was pretty impressed but wished it had been him rather than me meeting randoms and necking vile shots.
I was still feeling a bit guilty for the incident when I saw my mother recently, in fact taking her to the outdoor theatre (although we just ended up having an actual nightcap in a pub opposite the station this time). I thanked her for the weekend before where she had been staying at our house keeping an eye on the teenager and the cats while we were away. 'Oh that's OK darling.' she told me over a glass of house red. 'Although I wasn't there on the Friday night, I went out for drinks after work and ended up staying over somewhere.' she informed me casually. 'Was it a man?' I demanded, unable to contain my horror at the thought. With a glint in her eye she told me that it was, only to break down in giggles and reassure me that he was her colleague and very gay.
My mum as a fag hag who gets so tipsy she has to stay on random sofas, me, a mother heading out to dance and drink with kids who could be my kids and the wayward teenager suddenly becoming a responsible young man, there must be something in the water...
