Turning eighteen in our house does not stop at patronising a tattoo and piercing parlour. In our house another rite of passage occurs…dating is officially A-okay!
So, hot off the press my youngest daughter invited a poor, unsuspecting date candidate to our house one Sunday for dinner. In true homeschool family style we turned out in force to support our baby in her debut attempt at entertaining a male friend. In attendance were the parents, of course, we had the official and respective jobs of chief cook and bottle washer so could float around the kitchen with ease as we cooked a gourmet meal to nourish him while intimidating the crud out of him. Older sister was in attendance; the queen of awkward questions and comments,
“Are you allowed to be out this late on your own?”
“Have you started shaving yet?”
“Was that you?” as she wrinkled up her nose.
The bodyguards were hovering, brother one and brother two, they successfully increased the tension level by puffing up their chests, and flexing a few rock climbing muscles. They told us they were hungry and thirsty…for blood. They teased, in brotherly fashion their youngest sister, making kissy noises and raising their eyebrows; they playfully punched each other in their biceps. By the time the young man arrived I was already feeling sorry for him.
My youngest was oblivious to the excess male hormones bouncing off the walls, she only had eyes for him. He stood at the corner of the kitchen counter refusing countless offers of drinks while everyone hovered over the stove participating in the preparation of the feast and singing and yabbering about films, iPhone applications, and musical theatre; the family favourite subject. I checked on the potential date and noticed he was quietly looking from one to the other of us not knowing where the next word was coming from, so the mother in me burgeoned and I asked him if he had a favourite musical?
“I don’t know anything about musical theatre ma’am”. Oh! So I abruptly changed the subject to food hoping he wasn’t a Cici’s or Ronald MacDonald junkie. He assured me he ate anything and was looking forward to dinner.
So far so good…from our viewpoint.
Well hello there! My name is Vivienne McNeny.
I am an empty nester exploring life as a Boomer…you could say I'm happily Boomering along!
As a homeschooling Mum I have finally quit the job of role model and mentor to my four children. I do what I want to do, eat when I feel like it, enjoy life with my blue eyed cowboy and clean my house once a month or so whether it needs it or not!
In true English form I write about the emergence of my true identity now that I can no longer hide behind my children as their Mum.
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