When I Was God

I remember when my children thought I was God. I was all-powerful, all-knowing. I could fix any problem and answer any question they threw at me. And then my children started school…

These days if it comes to a toss-up between their teacher and me – I lose. After years of being infallible I have suddenly developed feet of clay. It’s not that I know any less (at least I hope not) – it’s just there is a new goddess in their life. Their teacher obviously knows more than me because she’s a “Teacher” with a capital “T” whereas I’m just a lowercase “mum”. I can even accept that with relatively good grace if I have to – it’s the fact that Ms. “whatever-her-name-is” has become the expert on everything in their lives. And she’s just so incredibly politically correct (PC) about it all. She’s turning my kids into the “PC Police”. They lecture me on what food we should and shouldn’t eat, what sort of car we should drive and so on.

Now I’ll admit that I like the odd glass of wine or two (sometimes it’s all that keeps me from killing the kids) but now they have the audacity to nag me about it. They actually kept count of my drinks at a party recently. Can you believe that? (I’d had 3 drinks for those of you who might be morbidly interested).

Did you know that I am personally responsible for climate change? Just ask my kids. I suppose I should count my blessings that they’re not blaming me for everything else that’s wrong in the world.

When I was a teenager my mother was really dumb. The incredible thing was how much smarter she became once she was a grandmother!!!

…or was it just that when I had kids of my own – I finally learnt to appreciate her?

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