Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll and I’m the coolest Mum in town

My home is being swallowed by monster sized cartons and I don’t dare put my car keys down lest they vanish too and I am left stranded. The house is an obstacle course. The cats have left home in disgust and the dogs have resumed their sulking.

Edgar, in charge of the team of four from AGS Worldwide Mover (logo: You deserve the best) entered the house yesterday and his face fell. I could tell what was going through his mind, ‘God these people accumulate a lot of crap’. I would have felt sorry for him had I not been so relieved I’m not the one who has to pack it all. They must be more confident of their progress today – I can hear their laughter and chatter as I write and the strip and hiss of Selotape torn from rolls to bind boxes. I’ve left the telly on so that they can watch the footie as they work.

At the same time I have a second fundi working on the washing machine which I have told him I must use before that is also swallowed by a box as there is a ton of laundry to be done. He has assured me he knows what he’s doing and having inspected the machine yesterday has returned, in his swanky car, this morning with a new part. His wheels would suggest I am paying for more than the spare part and his time. He is called – and I had to try not to laugh when he told me – Saucy.

Amelia’s piercing has not gone septic. She was – she told me – awarded much street cred by her peers yesterday. Not as much, though, she say as I have gained for myself, ‘my friends think you’re like so cool Mum’.

Why, I say (this is high, high praise indeed)

Because you let me pierce my ear.

Did I?

Her friends’ mothers will not think I am cool. They will think I am a bad influence. Just as they did when Amelia’s 13th birthday party went badly, badly pear shaped because one child came armed with an illicit bottle of booze and another with several spliffs which he shared with his mates in the bushes (the night watchmen sneaked, probably because they wouldn’t give him one). It is not nice to have to ring round the posher richer parents in a community at 10 O’clock at night and tell them that their son/daughter is drunk/stoned even if it was their overindulged brats who were drinking/dealing in the first place.

Perhaps it’s as well I’m relocating to the other end of the country?

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9 Responses to “Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll and I’m the coolest Mum in town”

  1. R.Sherman Says:

    Alas, I do not have such a reputation. My daughters friends have been informed that I hang up the phone if the caller refuses to indentify himself. At this stage of the game, fear is the best reaction a parent can have.

    Cheers.

  2. Gillian Says:

    Whereabout at the other end of the country are you going? You’ll live in the Bishop’s house and work a farm? What does/will the farm produce?

  3. Carolyn Says:

    Being the “Cool Mum” comes with much peril – expectations galore!

    But at least you have someone else packing. Packing is one of the worst chores known to man. Bleh.

  4. Primal Sneeze Says:

    What does fundi mean? Is it good, bad, indifferent?

  5. Minx Says:

    I have always encouraged my children to be honest and ask questions.
    I think the most important thing about parenting is to remember what you were like at that age and guide them through without laying down laws that block communication.
    Just sometimes I wish they would keep their honesty to themselves!

  6. Kathleen Says:

    I like your blog, good luck with the move, after 24 years of military service we have moved quite often. Will be interested to see your settling into the new place. Good luck.

    Kathleen from Texas, U.S.

  7. reluctantmemsahib Says:

    Primal Sneeze – sorry, we are prone to littering our conversation with kiswahili words so that it becomes second nature; fundi means artisan I suppose? so a fundi bomba is a plumber, a fundi ya gari is a mechanic and a fundi mbao is a carpenter. But one can also refer to an expert as a ‘real fundi’. Sometimes, having grown up with the language, all around me, one is hard pressed to identify the correct tranlsation for a word can have myriad and such useful meaning that its hard to find an absolutely apt English equivalent: kali for instance, can mean a hot curry, a fierce dog of an ill temper!

  8. Primal Sneeze Says:

    Don’t apologise. I was just curious. I liked the ‘sound’ of the word.

    I’m guilty of letting Irish and Hiberno-Irish words slip into conversation too. It’s no problem when I’m chatting with another Paddy of course, but with so many newcomers to Ireland, I often have to rephrase.

  9. Equiano Says:

    You know, that’s so interesting about the word “fundi”. I’ve never thought about the origin before, but we say “fundie” in South Africa to mean an expert, or someone really good at something. Must be from the Kiswahili. Fascinating.

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