Thoughts of a Teenager


Dear Mum (and Dad, Gran, Grandpa)

I’m like totally down with having you guys in my life.  You seem like a great old bunch, bit fussy and pedantic sometimes but hey, I’m a Rockin’ teen and I’m quite capable of giving you a great view of my back and being careful to keep my long suffering look locked in until I get outside the house.  The tree in the front garden can confirm the number of long-suffering looks at your oldness.

You oldies are pretty great really compared to what some of my friends have to put up with, me an’ my bro are lucky I know that, but it gets really down (that’s down down not great down which means I’m up) when you guys start on about the dangers of this world and the need for a safe, well paid job, when I’m looking forward to my next night at a club and you’d be like totally freaked out about if you knew I’d ever been there (which you do now).

It’s a great place, I’m deaf and have a pounding headache for a few days after I’ve been and that’s why my college grades are a bit up and down, nothing to do with the hormone story I tell you, and I guess the pills and alcohol don’t mix well either but who cares, it’s worth it for the laughs and at least I’m not sitting indoors commenting on Corrie and like thinking it’s all real.  It’s not real guys, not like my life, that’s just too real for words.

My reason for writing to you is that I’m too scared to say this to your faces, and as I’m currently in France studying for my Geo-politics course (not…they have FANTASTIC clubs over here) it seemed like a safe time to tell you what I’m thinking.

You see I had a bit of a SHOCK the other day (no mother I’m not pregnant nor do I have an STD).

I capitalised it because it was a BIG shock, you see I was looking through your stuff for something I could wear to a retro party (were you really that skinny Mum?) and I found the family photograph albums.  “Yawn” I thought, and then a photo of our old dog Thumper fell out so I just had to put it back right ‘cos he was cool.

When I opened the book there were all kinds of old photos of you guys when you were young and even some of Granny and Grandpa when you and Dad were little.    Granny didn’t look much older than me when she was holding Dad.  You all looked so happy and alive, you were smiling these huge smiles in all the photos and in one you were in this tiny bikini I’d never get into and Dad was running down the beach with you in his arms.  You were like size zero or something and your boobs were all small and perky and up by your shoulders.

You looked happy and alive and now you look tired and bored.  Sorry but you do.  All the time bored.  “What shall we watch on TV?”  “I don’t care, you choose.”  I listen and think, why are you watching TV if you don’t care about it?  Sometimes it seems your whole life is about “I don’t care you choose”, not just TV but eating, eating out, shopping, everything.  And don’t get me started on hair (can’t be bothered to fuss with it) and make up (so old it’s drier than the Sahara).

I hope I don’t get like that, I want to want to always want to care and choose.

Then the other day I was passing your bedroom Mum and you were standing in front of the mirror and you looked so sad.  You were holding a roll of fat around your waist and trying to lift it up.  Then you leaned in and looked at the crows feet round your eyes and no matter how hard you pulled or lifted they wouldn’t go.  I know Dad says that he loves your “love rolls” and “laughter lines” and I know you say that you lost your figure having me and my bro and you wouldn’t change it for the world and I get that, but it does make you sad, I saw it.

Do you know why I was scared of a photograph album Mum?  It was because of everything you’ve lost.  Dad looked so fit running down the beach with you, and all that hair…where did it go?  Grandpa was looking at Granny holding Dad and he was so happy and smiling, and he looked quite fit under that suit.  Is it okay to say that about your Grandpa?

Granny was beautiful, her hair was all wavy and glossy, and she was wearing these impossibly high heels.  I wouldn’t dare try them now, not even when I wasn’t drunk (which I never am I hold my alcohol quite well…does that make you feel better?).

Where did you guys go?  I am sooo scared that I’m going to disappear to the same place and never find my way back like you guys.  Tell me, was it okay getting there?  Did having kids make up for everything?  Was the house worth all the hours work, and is driving a great car compensation for your waistline?  I really want to know.

What made you get so bored that all you do is watch TV?  That your only hobby is food shopping and you haven’t seen a film since Rock Hudson was young and good looking (and straight)?  What happened and was it okay?

It scares me Mum that I’m not going to be able to weed the garden because I can’t kneel, or because my back won’t take it.  It frightens me that me and my bro will be peering over a pair of glasses trying to see what’s listed in the TV magazines and look at the TV at the same time.  I don’t want high blood pressure and cholesterol and blood sugar and the stuff you guys keep talking about.  I don’t want aches and pains and missing teeth and not to be able to bite into an apple.  How do I avoid it Mum?  Please!!!!

I hope I haven’t upset you but I just want to know how to get older without saying “In my day…” as I ‘ooof’ trying to get out of the armchair, I want every day to be my day, a day I own because I’m in the here and now loving it.  Tell me how to do that Mum, or Dad, Granny, Grandpa…anyone.  You guys are all I have to ask and the only people I can watch to help me work this out.

Show me what to do

You’re loving daughter Abby

(P.S.  and Pleeeeze don’t criticise my grammer and tell me it should be whom not who…or my spelling because I’ve never been able to spell grammer/grammar but I can spell supercalifragilisticexpialidocious…I think…so I’m not that bad.)

“Abby where are you?”

“Up here love”

“What are you doing?”

“I was just looking for an outfit for Nicole’s retro party at school and I found a letter I wrote to my mum when I was at uni.”

“What’s it about?”

“A shopping list”

Shopping List

Gym membership

Recipe book with proper meals in it

Hairdresser (URGENT…call mum and take her with me)

Holiday brochures

Cinema list

Fit and buff personal trainer  (male)

Find out which are the best local restaurants

List of local events and groups

Contact lenses

Cool sunglasses with varifocal lenses

High heeled shoes (very high)

Extremely fit young male gardener

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