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MAC THE KNIFE: Whistle test
You’ve got to keep you children on their toes. It’s a make or break essential. And a bit of respect goes a long way because otherwise you might as well give up.
But getting it is another matter. And I was low on points, my personal bank of kudos having run dry.
So having become little more than a cash machine, clothes washer, cook, cleaner, nagger and general PA to enable my sons’ lives to run more smoothly while still being obviously irritating in the meantime, I needed to take drastic action.
Luckily, a recent trip to Cowley Road solved the problem.
First up, if you don’t live in East Oxford it’s a cool place for teens to check out, and if you’ve lived there as a student and know your way around, you can feel your plus points racking up.
More points then ensued by taking them to Atomic Burger for dinner – a must for teenagers. It’s nuts; all cartoons, insane milkshakes and mind-boggling burgers in a fantasy interior. Plus it’s so noisy you don’t have to worry about getting any form of conversation out of them, and their grunts are hidden under the acoustics.
But my cool-mum points then went through the roof while waiting for our bus home on Cowley Road. My son and his school friends were entranced by the seriously cool homies cruising past in their pimp mobiles, windows down, music blaring.
And while I was wondering how they afforded their car insurance, my son turned to his friend and asked: “Who was that guy whistling at?”
His friend, trying not to catch my eye, mumbled: “I think they were wolf-whistling at your mum.”
Oh the joy. Just to hear those words and see the utter confusion in my son’s eyes. He couldn’t compute the two statements. Who would whistle at his mum and why? He asked his friend both these questions, to which his bezzie, nearly crimson by now, whispered. “I think they fancied her.”
“Gross,” my son replied, eyebrows raised.
Whether it was true or not is unimportant. And my son still doesn’t get it, why would he? Who could fancy his PA?
But it makes you feel better when Kevin and Perry are in da house and The Inbetweeners seems like Songs Of Praise in comparison.
Because despite his protestations, I could see a vague glimmer of respect hidden deep in the depths of my son’s eyes, and maybe even a flash of pride.
Or as he would put it: “Whatever!”
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