Home from school she opens the fridge in search of something edible and liquid sugar aka ginger beer. We’re in the vast and foreign country of A Levels and sixth form, a new terrain for she and I. It’s still a little strange to see her out of the navy blue uniform that had for so long, been her second skin. .
Me: How was school?
Me: Are you still going to Rachel’s party tomorrow?
Me: You don’t sound very excited about it.
Daughter: When have you known me to get excited about anything?
She gives me a hard stare…daring me to come up with something, anything…
Me: OK…an example eludes me right now…but I can guarantee you one thing, possibly due in the next few years, that you will get excited about…everyone does…
Daughter: This conversation has gone on for too long already..
Me: Your first date..if indeed you haven’t been on one already…be it with a boy or a girl …even you won’t be able to contain your excitement…
She sprays a mouthful of ginger beer in the air…
Daughter: I’m not a lesbian mum.
Me: I’m just saying…whatever your preference….a first date is special.
As she leans in I’m feeling she may be about to impart information of a sensitive nature..
Daughter: Mum I want you to listen to me and listen very carefully. I am not and never have been a lesbian. In fact I am now going upstairs to my room where I intend to build a shrine in honour of the male sexual organ, commonly known as the penis.
Suddenly, we’re laughing...