You may think, today being what it is, that I would have been gently awoken with a delicious breakfast in bed, with enough food involved to sink several battle ships. Had I had waited for such an event I would have been both very hungry and sat in a moist and uncomfortable bed. At my age, eight hours between peeing is cause for a high-five and a twenty five minute wee.
Instead I had been downstairs for several hours, and undertaken lots of things I’d rather not have done, such as tidying the kitchen, before my beloved daughters actually graced me with their presence.
I did get a text late morning with some sort of Father’s Day wishes and a smiley face, but it was into the PM before they managed to actually get downstairs. I don’t begrudge them the lie in, as they had got me presents and a card, and I then made them pay me back for the long wait with extensive hugs, complete with my scratchy weekend no shaving chin.
The majority of my presents were, it will not surprise you to know, food based, and I shall lay waste to those this evening. My favourite sweets (Sports Mixture) and my favourite snack (Bombay Mix) shall ensure that I shall be awake for a week with heartburn but that is a price I’m willing to pay. After those treats the T shirt they also got me may have to go back for a bigger size!
Whilst I had them in the room I took the chance to tell them both how things have to change around the house now they have both finished school/college for the summer. They are your typical lazy, do the bare minimum teen types so we’ve outlined quite clearly what we expect them to do in between the endless episodes of Friends and Jersey Shore that shall be their companions this summer.
As well as boring household duties, I have also tasked Emily with using her Media and Film Studies learnings to turn the collection of video footage from the past decade of holidays into something watchable. If she finds the motivation, and the tapes themselves, watch for those coming to a You Tube channel near you soon(ish).
So they have their faults, but I’m proud of them and grateful that we’ve managed to produce two healthy, (usually) happy and normal teens. Things, I’m sure, could be a lot worse, and for parents of a sixteen and seventeen year old we don’t do so bad. You may need to remind us of that as we berate them yet again for not doing something they should or vice versa. Overall, I’m sure others have it much worse.
Speaking of which.
Contrast that with the car crash of a family that the girls like to watch on the TV. Surely, the most damning and woeful indictment on the reality TV, fifteen minutes of fame culture we are subject to. Well, this weekend these blerts popped out another member of their clan.
Who is this? The Kardashians. Normally, I try to let the vacuous nature of these types drift past me. Things like Big Brother, The Valleys and Jersey Shore are usually just a brief interruption to my Facebook timeline as those watching it pass comment.
However, the girls do like to watch the Kardashian stuff, so I often have to endure their whiny, always go up the end of sentences, IQ devoid nonsense. These clowns are the ultimate example of being famous for being famous. The way they are idolised is a worry though. The “mother” talks about how she manages their “careers” as if she had re-invented the wheel, when in effect she did the abhorrent thing of launching her daughter’s career by devising, probably directing and then promoting her daughter’s sex tape.
Am I just moaning because I resent them their money? Sure, of course. I am equally as untalented as they are, so why should they be the multi-gazillionaires they are whilst I actually work for a living?
Now, from the PR constructed relationship, they have begat another one of their spawn, and already the cogs will be turning to launch the baby clothes line, the Kardashian nappy, and in about eighteen years, no doubt another tawdry sex tape. How proud Grandma will be.
When every event in your life is just another line in a script, it must be difficult. However, the limitless cash, and fawning assistants will prevent them from having to deal with the real world any time soon.
Whenever I rant like this, I trot out the line that I clearly need a holiday, so I’m going to have one next week. I’m off from Wednesday until the following Tuesday, and I intend to use a lot of that time as an investment in me. Sleep, relaxing, walking of dogs, and maybe some long overdue exercise will be the order of the day(s), as I try to recover from what has been a very long slog since Christmas.
If that doesn’t work then expect next week’s blog to be a thousand word monologue about Rylan, his new teeth and how being crap at singing has launched a career destined to continue for several months, or at least until the pantomime season finishes….but that’s for next week.
Till the next time….