I Know What I’m Not

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?

She grunts.

Me: Are you still going to Rachel’s  party tomorrow?

She grunts

 

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...

 

 

 

 

 

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