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Friday, October 4, 2013

The magical power that parents have to make you feel twelve years old again.... and not in a good way.


How is it that no matter what age you are, your parents still seem to have some magical ability to regress us to age twelve?  I don't at all mean this in lovely way, you know, a way in which we are transported back to a time and state of being of innocence, where we had no worries about work, mortgages, children, the environment and life as we know it as todays responsible adult. I'm talking about being regressed back to all the crap stuff about being twelve- ie. your parents spoiling your fun and making you do things that you don't want to!

Recently I had a very adult event in my life. The opening of an art exhibition which I was part of and which my mother attended. All was well, until my mother wanted me to do something for her and I was too busy attending to my guests to fulfill mothers wants. Mum kept asking me about a friend of mine I had known for ages. Mum wanted to be reintroduced to her and kept asking me where friend 'X' was. Mind you, I was busy being a host and spruiking my art which was on sale. I did respond to mum's requests with 'she is over there mum'.. to which mum would ask me to retrieve X to present to her. I know what your question is and the answer is: Yes, my mother is the Queen of England. Anyway my mother, whom everyone comments of with phrases such as  'Oh, your mum is lovely' or, 'Oh, your mum is so nice'... etc. Yes well, wait till you really know her, because if you don't give her what she wants, she will turn into the lord of HELL at any moment! as evidenced by what happened next at the exhibition.... As I was busy working the room, I walked past where the queen of England was seated (yes, my mother) and BAM! My mother just about rips my arm off as she grabs me:

Mum- In a steely tone, 'Have you brought your friend X over to me yet? I want to see what they are like after these years that have passed..'

Me, in the middle of working the room at MY event (and wondering why people ask rhetorical questions.. I mean, seriously, If I had brought X over to you, would you have to ask me If I had??)
'No mum, she is just over there' I say as I also point out where X is standing and in fairly close proximity'

Mum- 'go and get her', with her steely tone getting steelier by the syllable.

Me- exasperatedly 'Mum, I'm in the middle of stuff! I'm busy, she's over there' (ie. Queeny, get up and walk over there....)

At this point my mother, whom everyone falsely believes is LOVELY and is always saying ' oh your mum is  so sweet etc..... well, she gave me one of those looks, that dark alley stare that says  'do it now boy or I will cut you!' Then, between clenched teeth  she demands "Bring her to me NOW!'.  At which point, I regress into a twelve year old who has been told to stop playing with his friends and go and do some painful chore. My shoulders hunch up, are then released with a huge shrug and sigh as I turn and STOMP off to collect my friend X.  I find X, grab her arm and state sulkily 'Mum wants to meet you', then I STOMP back over to the queen who is smiling broadly, with X in tow....

Yep.... Parents.... no matter how old you are, they are always your parents and can always make you feel like a child, and not in a good way either.

p.s. I do love the Queen, err I mean my mum!

6 comments:

  1. I certainly can identify my late mother in your story. Lovable but in her terms as a a neo-Victorian parent. We are all victims and beneficiaries of our genes and environment.

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  2. All you have to do is make an exhibition entirely about your mother Matthew...

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    Replies
    1. LOL.. as if blogging about her wasn't enough ;-)

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  3. poor you, i relate to this of course. i think most mothers have this ability. i don't of course. i like the gardener's comment. great idea :)

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