This parenting malarkey is just a bundle of conflicting emotions isn’t it? You love your kids but there are moments when you could quite happily batter them at the same time.
I’ve just spent the afternoon blitzing the manchilds bedroom. He’s moved out so it’s not technically his anymore and I need the room for friends coming to stay but his stuff is still here and as he’s unable to sort it all out himself at the moment, I did it.
As I sort through his things, I find a piece of paper from the local pawn shop. Now, I already knew that the manchild was not a stranger to this establishment and that that’s where my fold–up bike had gone but being reminded of the fact made me a little cross. Those bikes are not just expensive, they are SUPER expensive… as in hundreds and hundreds of pounds. I got mine second hand and dirt cheap, in fact I didn’t even pay for it, my mum did, but that’s not the point. And neither is the fact that I only ever used it twice. The grand sum he got for it? £100? £50 maybe? Nope. £10! The reminder itself made me grumpy but I hadn’t realised how little he got for it. That made me even more like a bear with a sore head.
So I’m sorting and clearing and grumbling to myself when the phone rings. It’s the manchild… and instantly I forget being grumpy with him and am just happy to hear his voice. The pawnshop slip didn’t seem important anymore, especially as we’d already had ‘The Discussion‘ about it when it happened. It was much more important to find out how his week has been and to just talk with each other; because despite his faults and our occasional frustrations with each other, I’m lucky to have him. He’s the only kid I’ve got and he’s irreplaceable. Besides, he’s not going to be a dumb pawnbroker-using teenager for ever.
He has dragged me onto this rollercoaster but the highs more than make up for the lows. I reckon I’ll keep the pawn-slip as a reminder to myself of this daft teenager of mine who’s making growing up such a memorable event! I’ll tuck it away somewhere safe and find it again in a decade or two, when he’s all grown up finally. And the next time I see it, instead of making me grumble, it’ll remind me of how he’s grown and how far he’s come and it’ll make me smile.