Friday, 15 July 2011

That Difficult First Teenage Date

Daughter #1 went her on her first proper first date yesterday. First proper as in they didn't go out in a big gang, hang around a shopping centre and heckle old ladies which is how all previous teen twin courtships have been conducted until this point.

This date was clearly different.... a meal (pizza at Pizza Hut) with a movie (The Bridesmaids) to follow. Girl was picked up by the Youth and delivered home again (his father doing taxi duties there and back). And Girl, who generally spends her time at home slouching around in pyjamas and a hoody, HAD spent two and a half hours the previous evening trying on everything she and her twin sister own AND used about 300 quids worth of electricity on drying and straightening her hair.

Disappearing into her bedroom after school, she eventually emerged dressed up, made up and hand out for cash, before haring out the door as soon as the car arrived. Not because I might embarrass her if the poor boy came to the door to collect her. No. Not because of that. Not at all. I forlornly removed my clown outfit and put away the comedy trombone.



On her return, she dragged the Youth to the door announcing, all giggly and glowing: "My mum just wants to check you're not covered in tattoos or piercings or have a mohican." Which was very unfair really, because I already knew he wasn't and hadn't (what else is Facebook for if not checking out your daughter's suitors). I was hunched over the laptop with a cigarette surrounded by the paraphanalia of a writer's life.. ashtrays, glasses, wine bottles and, um, more wine bottles. I imagine he was very thoroughly impressed. Or scared.

So the first date seemed to go well, for me at least. I successfully allowed the Girl to leave the house without either recapping basic sex education lessons or offering her a condom which would have caused her to raise her eyes to the heavens and say "Oh, mother" in the despairing it's-not-like-it-was-in-your-day way she has. I restrained myself from absolutely insisting that the Youth must present himself for inspection prior to the date to sign, in triplicate, the five page terms and conditions I could have drawn up. And, most importantly of all, I was not an embarrassment to her. At all.

Oh, apart from when I shouted: "Are you off for a goodnight snog now" when he was leaving. *Pats self on back.*

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