Growing Up

No posts for nearly a week. That must be record for me keeping my trap shut. All my spare time has been taken up with playing the recently released Titan Quest game, the follow-up to the excellent Diablo series and it has proved thoroughly addictive, not just for me but also my son, so when I do have some free time, I can’t get near the PC to log any posts for his hulking frame.

But I had to make a special effort as today is my daughter’s 18th birthday which is a special landmark to be celebrated which we did last night as the four of us went for a family meal. I’m not an overly sentimental person, but it suddenly hit home that sitting opposite me was not my ‘little girl’ but a confident young woman. Lump in throat time.

The celebrations are lasting several days with a night out with her mates tonight and a trip to London with a friend to take in show and do some shopping on Thursday and Friday. What with spending money, presents, meals and paying for driving lessons, Miss P has made a serious dent in the Parrot cuttle fish.

Should I begrudge her this? Perhaps not. But for her, there would be no Shooting Parrots.

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

2 comments… Add yours
  • Yorkshire Pudding 20th July 2006

    Because I am not a spiteful person and in spite of your unjustifiable and venomous assault on the noble teaching profession, I have taken the magnanimous decision to observe and respond to your humble Mancunian blog from time to time. My daughter – who I am sure is far more lovely than your daughter – is eighteen in September. Family meal? Trip to London? Shopping expedition? How passe (with an accent). For my daughter there will be a medieval banquet in Chatsworth House with five hundred guests, a fly past by the Red Arrows and a shopping spree in New York City staying at the Plaza Hotel for five nights with six friends and a private concert starring Robbie Williams and John Lennon. Seriously though – such moments tell us that we’ve done well by our kids and that time is seeping away. Another eighteen years? Jeez we may not even be here! We gotta live life to the full.
    Happy birthday Miss P and sorry about your daddy! Ever considered residential care?

  • Son of Groucho 23rd July 2006

    Can’t remember much about my daughter’s eighteenth birthday, but I know it came nowhere near the grandeur of Yorkshire Pudding’s: it’s difficult to top a private concert with John Lennon!

    Now that Gdog is almost 20, however, she has made it to Australia for 4 weeks before her old man has mananaged to convince himslef that he can afford to go there! It still amazes me that she got there completely on her own: wasn’t it just the other day I was changing her nappy?


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