I had a sudden sharp memory of when my son was in his early teens and he asked if he could have his shirts ironed. I said, ‘of course’ and brought him an ironing board and an iron and let him get on with it.
Then another memory of going to Cambridge University to bring him home for the holidays. His rooms were stacked with hundreds of empty coke cans. ‘These need to be taken to the recycling bin,’ he said. I sat down in an armchair and opened a book. ‘Aren’t you going to help me?’ he said, to which I replied, ‘No.’
He burst out with, ‘Did anyone ever tell you a son is for life and not just for Christmas?’ Which is the warning given to people about to present their kids with a puppy, except it reads dog instead of son.
Oh, well, he’s turned out great and I still don’t iron anything. I only wear cotton blouses on warm days in the hope the heat will take the creases out.
This was on her Facebook page in case you want to join.