It’s the twins 11th birthday soon, and for their present
They’ve been so excited and have talked non-stop about it for the last week
You know those absurd what if questions
What if the show doesn’t happen?
What if Katy falls off the stage?
What if Katy farts and we hear it on the microphone?
What if we get lost and
What if, what if, WHAT IF!!!!!!!!!!
I take a good look at them; they’re growing so fast. Long honey-blonde hair, blue eyes and freckles, my identical mirror image twins.
They’re perched on the edge of their seats, they’ve both finally brushed their hair properly and are
I think back to when I was 11; I was a sad little girl, my parents had just had a messy divorce.
Feelings of anxiety overcome me. I haven’t been a good parent to them. I’m too serious, I’m tired, often grumpy and always stressing about something. Maybe this has rubbed off on them, and we’re missing a crucial element in life, the joy has gone. Our family is too serious. I’m a bad mother.
The music starts, the concert is so loud that we can feel ourselves vibrating.
I watch the young people in the standing section dancing.
I wish I’d bought my earplugs, and at the same time, I mourn the fact that I’ve missed my calling in life to be a backup dancer.
Katy yells into the mic
“Thank you all for coming.”
“Thank you to the parents that have let their kids stay out late on a school night, and eat lots of sugar!’
I look at the girls again, they’re both holding bags of lollies, and they’re exchanging them like they’re doing a secret drug deal.
“Can I have a disco biscuit?” I yell above the noise.
They look at me strangely, flick me a lolly, and I pretend I’m having the time of my life. We jump around together, and I embarrass them with my best dance moves.
Maybe I’m not doing so badly after all.