Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Plummy Evolution and Parental Revenge.

When I was a teenager I spent many miserable Sunday afternoons traipsing around furniture stores. As my folks admired the shiny new matching suites and nests of tables I lurked in the background perfecting my slouch and wishing I was anywhere else.  There I was a sensitive Bohemian stuck in suburbia when I was meant for higher things.  I'd loudly complain about the ugliness of pretty much everything on sale and secretly plan my escape to a place far far away from the middle class awfulness that was stifling me. A place where I would be appreciated as the genius I so obviously was.  It was torture. What my genius didn't realise, was  that as far as my parents were concerned, the torture was mutual.

A few weeks ago I was back in my teenage purgatory only this time I was one of the grown ups. We needed a new sofa and after extensive research in the same horrid shops we chose a successor to the scruffy collapsing thing we've been sitting on all these years.  I happened to mention this in an email to my father and this was his reply.


Jeni
I think someone must have hacked into your emails. This mention of G Plan just can't be coming from you - the very essence of middle class aspiration, and someone expects me to believe that you have succumbed.


It might have taken him twenty seven years but my dad has had the last word!








In other news. The nights are getting darker, the shelves are looking bare. Time to make plum jam. I wonder what my teenage self would think of that.

5 comments:

Lyn said...

oh but the plums look delicious, I loved the email from your dad, to think he has waited all these years to get the last word in!
xxx

Erica said...

Ha! I don't think people are ever too old or wait too long to get the last word in if/when they can :)

Ellen Mason said...

My Dad took my to a used car dealership to show me the car he had picked out for me, a gift. It was surely the ugliest car I'd seen in all my sixteen years, and I let him know through that same horrible body language. I can't believe he still speaks to me.

Karin said...

I love your blog and your pictures so much.
I remember the visits to the furniture store and being very opposite...

zippiknits said...

Delicious post! I love your blog.

My children have spoken last words for me, when they know that I'm not about to say them, to their faces, anyway. ;-)