Gibberish Generation


For someone who is not easily surprised or taken in, today I was surprised and easily taken in.

My daughter rings me at work gushing the news that her older brother has announced his engagement on Facebook, and wasn’t that great Mum?

No, it wasn’t great as evidenced by the head of steam I had built up in the time it took me to stab out her brother’s mobile number. Damn it, answering machine.

To leave a rude message or not to leave a rude message?

“Hey, you, I just received some messed up message from your sister that you’ve announced your engagement on Facebook. I told her she must be mistaken, cos’ no way you would do anything of the kind without letting me know beforehand.”

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Gibberish Generation

On (S)mothering Sunday and killing insomniacs

This was written in the early hours of the morning with a raging cold and insomnia. Staring at the ceiling, I remembered one of the many nonsense conversations I have with my children and started choking. Cold, insomnia and choking. Three for three.

“Mum, what do you want for Smothering Sunday?

Nothing, I’ve told you before, I don’t need things to know you guys love me.

Whoa! Hold on Mama, I asked what you wanted for Smothering Sunday, not you cry about how much we all love you, which I didn’t say BTW.

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Gibberish Generation

Renting my heart out

We do not make sacrifices for our children in order to let their teenage selves know years later the number of sacrifices we made for them. However, the sacrifices we do make can’t help cross our minds when the subject of paying their way becomes the hot topic once they are out of nappies and into everything else.

And by way of background, there are two schools of thought in the West Indian culture regarding young people and rent.

The first school will not accept a penny on the basis that no child is going to try and rule the household by virtue of contributing a few shillings to the coffers. The second school holds that men and women pay their way in the world and, thus, as soon as children are man enough to work they are man or woman enough to contribute.

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Gibberish Generation

So, there’s going out and there’s going out out. Yeah.

Our middle aged brains firmly believe we are still very much ‘with it’. We understand and, in some cases, even like popular music and modern culture. Like I said, we’re with it, man.

However, there comes the reckoning for all of us when we are forced to admit we are out of the loop and out of touch with the yoof of today. (Like my kids the other day watching me watch a young woman wearing shorts so short the manufacturers forgot to include the material.)

But no, my recognition of being out of step was not that naked child, but trying to work out what the flipping heck my children were talking about when it came to the once simple concept of…going out.

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