Tag Archives: summer holidays

Saved By The Bell

back to schoolThis has been a sad, sad week. The Teenager went back to school on Wednesday and I’m still wiping away the tears, getting used to rattling around an empty house with only Jeremy Kyle for company.

There is so much I will miss:

  • The feeling of lightness in my wallet. It will take a bit of adjusting to not having to dig deep every single day. Money for the cinema and lunch in town with friends for him, beans on toast and ‘Cash In The Attic’ with the cat for me.
  • Telling the Teenager for the umpteenth time, ‘In my day, we….(insert one of the following – ‘didn’t have the internet’, ‘made our own fun out of tin cans and bits of string’, ‘walked everywhere’).
  • The loud music blasting from his bedroom when I’m trying to have a quick shut-eye. Everything from Nirvana to the Beach Boys to new stuff I’m far too old to know the names of. He’s nothing if not eclectic.
  • The drama involved in buying a new school uniform. Will particularly miss the slammed bedroom doors, followed by shouts of ‘s’not fair, hate school, stoopid Harry Potter blazer.’
  • Ditto School Shoe Shopping (SSS). I’m sure the lovely lady who helped us really didn’t mind bringing out so many boxes of shoes to a Kevin The Teenager lookalike. She did look awfully happy/relieved when we left though.
  • The friends who pop over to see The Teenager for an hour and end up staying all day. Such dear, funny little people. Not at all loud.
  • The chainsaw snores from The Teenager’s bedroom as he has yet another lie-in.

So, forgive me if I’m a touch emotional. I have dug out all the old photographs of his first day at school, stretching back years. They range from the impossibly cute, smiley 4 year old to the one last year, where I had to bribe him with an extra quid for lunch. He’s slouched, unsmiling, barely looking at the camera. Sigh. This year, in his smart new blazer, his photo was more like a mugshot for junior Crimewatch.

Anyway, I have to pull myself together and not feel too despondent. As The Teenager couldn’t wait to tell me yesterday, it’s only six weeks to half-term. Like, yay.

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