Tuesday 26 November 2013

Leaving home (some day). More Sex.

The beautiful (and adamant) girl is completing her College Application choices for next year.  "Perhaps you could maybe put down eh Business Studies? or uh... Law!,  or.... or Languages... combined with eh Business Studies or like Law. As I mean a third option, a..um... fallback position, so to speak, darling."   "Pardon!?  Why would I do THAT when I am taking English and Drama, or I am taking  English and Film, or possibly I am taking Film and Drama. I'm not actually like DOING anything else. Or don't you think I can get the points? Didn't you see my pre mock results? I mean hello?!". I have seen 'em. She has a point.  She needs more points for the chosen option than for any of my ridiculous suggestions. And she's on track. My vision of the beautiful girl as self supporting, comfortably established, launched!, sooner rather than later is fading fast. "Well, I mean maybe the chosen option will actually yield a living wage" I harrow to my husband. "Yeah. Maybe baby, maybe. Or,  she will be exhausting the arts department on your ticket for the decade. Either or."

"Well  I'M thinking of goin' local, the IT, Institute of Technology you know.  You'll save a fortune..my mate's getting wheels you know... SO I have a lift.  Until you've sorted me with a car. Nothing to worry yourself about here! "  My husband asks the hopeful boy what he would be proposing to study. "Don't know yet.  Havn't decided.  I mean I could do anything. The way I see it.  Pure History maybe,  I'm like good at that. Do they do that there?  Or Archeology! Architecture! Agricultural Science! or, I know,  Vetinarian!  I'm really like good with animals. As you know. Like how many years would THAT take me?". "More than you'd think", I mutter brokenly.. "Maybe you could ASSIST the vet" the boss says kindly   "And, you know,  it will be weird for me when they have both gone AWAY to College. Kinda lonely",  a thoughtful and not unhappy light in her eye.

"It WILL work itself out in the end, angel. It will, you know, unfold as it unfolds, follow its own strange trajectory,  take its own mysterious course. So. We must just go with it, like roll with it,  have faith in the universe. And like also the teenagers" I finish magnificently to my husband, he having by that time cooked the dinner, fed the dog, driven the beautiful girl to drama, gathered in the boss and boy from the darkening night and the suck of a teenage swarm on the road.  "Yeah" , he says, "yeah. Or maybe we should get down on our knees and pray. And afterwards  call one of those helplines, tell them where to get me, tell them there's two of us here, tell them how I'm worn to the bone, pinned to the mast,  may not actually be getting ENOUGH SEX". "Pardon!!!!!!????"  "S'ok," he hastens to add, "I mean I've grown accustomed,  I 'd actually miss 'em if they ever did. Leave I mean. They can stay. Bless them. Also their babies, lovers, hordes of little friends. And you, you can let me know when you have a window, no pressure, I'm basically always at home. Though off to fetch the beautiful one, first."

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