Keeping Mum

Generally I am a good daughter. Over the last decade mum and I have established a relationship that is based on mutual respect. It’s no secret that during my teenage years I made her life a living hell, but during my 20s, although (in her own words) my life style was ‘the cross she had to bear’, we managed to find ways of conducting our friendship without much conflict. There were things that we just didn’t talk about.

I have always been honest with her. If she asks a question I give her the truth. Well, within reason. There are times when I sheild her from truths that will hurt her, but it has always been my philosophy that the lesser of two evils would be to hear things from me. Several years ago, a kid died at a party from a drug overdose. His parents were in the media ranting on about how their kid didn’t do drugs. As a result, there were photos of him at various parties published, and if he didn’t do drugs then there sure as hell was something interesting going on in his head. I never want my mother to be in that position. I’m not referring specifically to drugs, but I think that example is a good one.

There are always going to be generational differences, no matter how forward thinking your parents are. There are just things that didn’t exist in their youth, so how the hell could they be expected to understand them? Anyway, I digress…

So mum and I are friends. We talk most days. During one of these conversations last week she invited herself to my party on the weekend. She said that I could say no if I wanted… yeah right. I told her to come early for some bubbly, but she said she was writing all day (she is doing her PhD) and would come around 7 or 8.

About an hour after they arrived I answered the door to my best friend. I said to him that mum and dad had invited themselves and that I didn’t know how long they would be staying. That’s all I said, but my tone was downright eye-rolling.

10 minutes later mum told me that she had been in the bedroom next to the doorway, playing with the cats and had heard me. I felt sick.

What a bitch.

You can’t turn back time so I know I have to let it go, but it’s fair to say that I’ll be thinking a bit more before I open my mouth in the future.

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