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MOTHERS | DAUGHTERS | GRANDDAUGHTERS | THE STRUGGLE IS REAL
Why My Daughter’s Parenting Makes Me Cringe
Scones, swearing and the same old mistakes
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I arrived at school fifteen minutes early for the annual Mother’s Day gathering. I knew my daughter Morgan would be late — she’s always late. Her idea of an afternoon tea followed by a liturgy in honour of mothers was a form of torture. Another tedious expectation of motherhood; she’d sooner poke her eyes out or drown herself in a bath of wine.
She missed the scones with jam and cream, so I ate both hers and mine. Great. A double dose of gluten to see me through the afternoon — and let’s face it, the next day as well. I thought it was worth every bite. It never is.
Ushered like lambs to the slaughter, we piled into the assembly hall. Rows of tiny chairs were all that remained once the adult chairs had been filled — why was she always late? I wasn’t sure how my ample arse would fit into chairs made for Goldilocks, but somehow I managed.
We were gridlocked with over a hundred mothers and a few fathers packed in like sardines. I wondered what the fathers were doing there. I smiled at their commitment. One dad, holding a baby…
