She’s lying supine across her bed, head hanging over the edge of her mattress, eyes glued to the ceiling, her body completely motionless.  I’m tempted to check her pulse…but instead I ask…

Me: What would you like for dinner?

She turns her head slowly, as if about to say something of importance…and smiles…

Me: What do you fancy eating?

A long considered pause…

Daughter: ‘Iced tea imported from England, Lifeguards imported from Spain, Towels imported from Turkey, Turkey imported from Maine…’

Me: For Godsakes.

Half an hour later…she’s still in her corpse pose…

Me: Spag bowl? Basmati rice? Sweet and sour Quorn?

Another laboured pause…

Me: Well?

And then a sigh…

Daughter: ‘Fetch me my Jimmy Choo flip flops, Where is my pink Prada tote? I need my Tiffany hair band, And then I can go for a float..’

And so it goes on and on…

I’m feeling motherly and loving…so of course I try to hug her as she comes through the front door…

Daughter: Whoa! What’s happening?!

Horrified, she leans away from this shameless display of parental affection and makes a sign of the cross to stress the point…

Me: It’s perfectly normal for me to want to hug my lovely daughter..

Daughter: In some parts of the world people walk their dogs and then eat them. Some things are just wrong mother…

We’re on our way to the prize presentation evening at her school and I can’t stop smiling. She’s killing me with the marathon pace of her stride… but still, I can’t stop smiling…

Me: I’m so proud of you!!!

Daughter: It’s not that deep mum.

Me: It is that deep. I don’t care what you say.

Daughter: Coloured pencils and a voucher. So excited. Yay.

Not even her biting sarcasm can touch my joy…

Me: This is about your hard work and focus…. your achievement. It’s important and right that your effort is rewarded.

Daughter: Actually mum, they award prizes for breathing. I’m expecting something huge because, well, I’m pretty good at it… so…yay.

Daughter: Mum! Mum! Mum!

I open her bedroom door to find her swathed in bed linen…staring into space…

Daughter: What’s the meaning of life mother ?

Me: For godsakes !

I slam the door shut…

Daughter: Mum! Mum! Mum!

I don’t bother to knock this time..

Me: What!!??

Daughter: How many chickens do you think there are in the world ?

A broken tooth offers a rare gift… we’re on our way home from the dentist …me and her, walking side by side…a time to check in…..catch up..

Daughter: My friends said you’re really nice…

A smile begins at the top of my head…travels down to my feet….

Daughter: They said you’re funny…

I’ve passed an exam I didn’t even know I was taking…and come out with an A…

Daughter: And you look young…

An A*…

We walk a few yards along our street …in an easy, comfortable silence …I open the front gate, rummage around in my bag for my keys…

Daughter: They also said… 

I’m grinning from ear to ear… 

Daughter: That you’ve got …

….class ? …style ? …something special ?…

Daughter: A ‘resting bitch’ face…

She bursts into my room searching for trouble and a suitable distraction from her homework….Sounds like hardcore Indie Rock blaring from her headphones..

Me: What are you listening to ?

Daughter: The son of God, mother..

Me: Is that the name of the band?

Daughter: Jesus mother..

Me: What?

Daughter: Jesus is my music..

Me: No, seriously, what are you into nowadays?

Daughter: Hymn and Prayer mother…hymn and prayer…

Daughter: Do you have a degree?

Me: Yes

Daughter: What in?

Me: Social Science

Daughter: What’s that?

Me: Politics, philosophy, psychology, economics, sociology, social policy….

She smiles wryly…

Daughter: Oh……

…glances down at her laptop……her fingers hovering over the keys.….

Daughter: So you have a degree, right?

Me: Yes

….suddenly from her laptop comes an R&B song….

‘Why the fuck you lying..why you always lying..mmm oh my god stop fucking lying…always lying to me.. you’re lying so much…you’re making it hard for me…’

She collapses in laughter….as do I….

Me: Are you interested in anyone at school?

She looks horrified….

Me: It’s OK if you are…I mean it’s natural..

Daughter: Are you REALLY having this conversation with me?

Me: All I’m trying to say is…you’re 16 soon….it’s to be expected that you might be taking more interest in the opposite sex or the same..

Daughter: What do you mean…the same?

Me: I mean…it’s OK to be whatever you are…straight or gay or inbetween…

Her mouth is a huge black hole…..

Me: I love you…no matter what…

Daughter: I’m not a lesbian mum

Me: It’s OK if you are..

Daughter: Mother, I am not a lesbian..

Me: I’m just saying.…

Daughter: Are you trying to push me into lesbianism mother…

Me: Of course not….

Daughter: I swear if you make me a rainbow coloured birthday cake for my 16^th I will shoot you..

In search of a gentle yoga flow… I stumble upon a male Vinyasa yoga instructor online in sweatshirt and shorts lying supine in Supta Badokonasana, a reclining, restful pose.. Suddenly she’s there… peering over my shoulder….

Daughter: What the hell is he doing?

Me: It’s Supta Badokonasana.

Daughter: No it’s how you look when you don’t have any money for child maintenance..

Me: It’s a restorative pose, very calming, good for the hips..

Daughter: Way too much information..

The yoga instructor gets to his feet….. takes off his sweatshirt..

Daughter: What the..?!

Me: I guess its hot where he is….

Daughter: You fancy him.

Me: He’s cute…compact and cute..

Daughter: He’s a hobbit.

Me: Well I think he’s really cute..

Daughter: He’s a hobbit. On a yoga mat.

Me: Have you decided what you’d like for your 16^th. It’s a huge turning point…needs to be celebrated in a big way…

Daughter: Yes mother I have thought about it…

Me: And…?

Daughter: I’d like a sex party…

A little later…

Me: Are you ready to be serious?

Daughter: About?

Me: Your birthday. I’d like to get you something you really want and something you’re actually going to get a lot of use out of..

Daughter: Condoms…for the sex party.