I have this week made my last ever packed lunch for the girls.
I haven’t made Emily one for a while as her college schedule allows her home for lunch, but Rebecca has been bound by both a uniform and lunches in school until just last week.
The busy nature of last week for me meant that I wasn’t able to mark the occasion as I might have wished. I would have liked to have created said sandwich with some sort of Samurai sword, and thirty-day aged steak, but my guess is Rebecca got cheese….again.
The fact that I am marking this landmark in this way is diametrically opposed to the way I often felt about having to undertake the task. It’s funny how that goes. Something along the lines of you don’t know what you’ve got till its gone I suppose.
Bar a few exams to attend that’s it for the girls now, and a journey which started in about 1999, when Emily started her first nursery is coming to an end.
As much as those years have zipped by in the growth of some love handles and the loss of more hair, they do still need their parents for some stuff, and as I still rely on mine too, I suppose they always will.
This was demonstrated this weekend in differing ways, reflecting the different types of young women we have created.
On Saturday morning Emily was up and about at 9am, which in itself is cause for concern or an ambulance, but this week she had good reason. Her One Direction obsession was the cause. Yes she is almost 18, but young at heart for sure. Disney and One Direction are her main interests, and in some ways, I am quite pleased about that. It could be worse.
So her early rise was to secure tickets for the recently announced massively over priced scream fest in a stadium near you. Not yet in possession of a credit card, she needed good old Dad to do the deed.
I wasn’t very hopeful to be honest. Having tried to get Beyonce tickets some weeks ago (for Rebecca) and failing in a blur of crashing websites and frustrated keyboard bashing, I expected the same with these lot.
We had two laptops up and running and Louise on the phone, and as the time came, right on cue all of the web sites we had loaded crashed. Ten minutes in I had mentally given in, but one last try of one site saw some actual pages working. A few brief clicks later and two tickets were in the bag.
Not having even looked at what type of tickets they were, we soon realised after the event that the seats were actually just outside of Birmingham.
Emily, bless her, was happy enough, and I toddled off to get on with my day. Moments later Emily informed me that extra dates were being added, and like a Dad on a mission I was back on the laptop. Long story short, two much better tickets were booked for the second date, and the two earlier ones sold.
Emily was best pleased.
Rebecca’s need for her Dad was a little less complex and expensive, but of a more urgent and pressing nature. With a BBQ planned later at her boyfriend’s house today, she appeared in her dressing gown with a look of horror on her face. She had run out of false tan!
An emergency dash to Asda sorted that one, and she was off again, pretending once again to be all independent and grown up.
Yet another milestone on the fast paced journey through life.
In other age related news, on Saturday I bought a quiche. Contained within its pastry base and cheese based filling were the essence of Radio 2 and the extract of tartan slippers.
My working week was beyond busy, and I didn’t get home on Friday until after 9pm, but it looks like we got done what needed to be done by hook or by crook, and I look forward to slightly less stressful weeks to come.
As I tweeted at one point last week, I do feel the need for a holiday, but I fear I will have to make do with a few days off at home. Having been hard at work without a break since last September even that will be very welcome. I just need someone to build a rollercoaster and an Applebees next door.
Enjoy your extra day off should you be lucky enough to have it, and I’ll see you back here next week for more savoury pastry chat. Don’t forget your tartan slippers.
Till the next time….