Showing my Mother that I’m a grown-up

I have invited my Mother to an event. ‘I would like to invite you to this event,’ I emailed her last month. ‘Let me know if you’re free- I think the tickets will sell out pretty fast, so I’ve already got our two.’ I sat back smugly and waited for the glory that was sure to ensue. See, the event is this:

http://www.bl.uk/whatson/events/event130829.html, and I’m pretty sure now that I’ve invited my Mother to it I have secured my place as the favourite. ‘This will be such a nice, bonding thing for the two of us to do,’ I thought as I searched my floor for some clean socks. ‘And now that I’ve generously paid for the tickets, I think Mum will finally see me as a proper grown-up. And possibly take me out to dinner.’

My Mother replied. ‘Darling, I would love to come. Can you get another ticket please? I would like to bring my gentleman caller.’ I robustly ignored this email, and called my little sister. ‘I do not want her gentleman caller to come,’ I whined down the phone in an exceptionally grown-up fashion. ‘This was meant to be a fun thing we did just the two of us.’ My little sister encouraged me to talk to our Mother. I took a more sensible approach, and ignored her.

The event is next week, and this morning my Mother sent me another email. It was titled, ‘the 25th May’, and read as follows:

Darling

1. Was this a real invitation?

2. If yes can ****** come? (she obviously didn’t censor his name, but I am. He doesn’t deserve any more attention)

3. What time does it start and end?

4. Will you require dinner afterwards?

Let me know

Love

Mum

It seems my excellent plan to ignore this problem has not worked, and I need to take a different approach. So, as a mature and reasonable grown-up, I have written this blogpost. I think you’ll all agree that this was the most adult thing to do.

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