mummy and daddy (hi mum, hi dad)Posted on 2010.09.25 at 15:25
hearing: stevie nicks:edge of seventeen
Day 02 – Your first love
Day 03 - Your parents, in great detail
this is gonna be a long'un, probably less of a downer than the previous lot though as i kind of get on with my parents. here's a brief time schemata on things so's you know what i'm on about. my parents seperated twice: once when i was what, six/seven, getting back together when i was about 8/9; and secondly, finally, when i was in sixth form.
okay, so i probably don't have the conventional relationship with my mum and dad. we kind of had our relationships broken down and then reformed in an adult mould long before most people. everyone thinks my parents are cool, mostly because they are. i think i've inherited qualities from both of them, and i would say i get on with them both in such different ways that i couldn't say i got on with one of them better than the other, as it wouldn't be a fair comparison.
okay, so i think we'll start with my dad. my dad is called bruce, and he's from new zealand, which means i have dual nationality and two passports. he only took the citizenship test when i was in sixth form. he has worked in IT for the whole time i've been alive, first at deautsche bank, then as a contractor for IBM. as a consequence he hates being on the computer when it's not at work, and has told me to stop going out with computer nerds who try to talk to him about it. duly noted dad, i now have a boyfriend who talks shop with mum instead. he is really tall (something i inherited), and really skinny (something i did not inherit). he is possibly the funniest drunk in the history of the universe (something i inherited for some of the time) and has been greying since i was young. he lives in leicester, with his girlfriend kath (can we please invent a word for older people's partners, girlfriend and boyfriend sounds so sad and midlife crisis-y even when it is really not). these days i don't see him very much, which is a shame, as i get on pretty well with my dad. i didn't always. i think most of my early to mid teens were a battle of wills between my dad and i, mostly because we didn't understand each other, which is painful enough as it is. my dad likes skiing, golf, and cricket. all of the sports that aren't really sports, basically. he's been present at all the important occasions in my life, and on birthdays and stuff he always asks me what i want so he doesn't get it wrong, but the things he buys off his own bat are always amazing too (like my jade fish hook when he went to new zealand). when i was at uni he used to send me a parcel at easter full of dark chocolate (he knows i like it better) and every year i'd be like 'what the fuck is that??' til i opened it. i think my dad and i talk about things a lot more now than we ever did. last christmas i bought him the live recorded stop making sense album, and we both had a bit of a cry to once in a lifetime. i definitely inherited my cynicism from my dad, especially when it comes to the corporate world, and people trying to sell me things i don't need. he was the one at my graduation who took me off for double gin and tonics before the ceremony because i could not hack how close i was to a first and he knew i could not deal with everybody continuously being so bloody proud of me. that kind of sums it up really.
now, onto my mum. my mum is called sharon. she is a teacher, she's very short (hi mum i know you're reading this, you're a midget) but we look exactly the same to the point that it is disturbing. her mum looks the same as us as well. it actually terrifies people. i live with her now, while i'm at home for a year. my mum is my first port of call whenever something is really wrong; i'm not sure i'd have made it through uni if i hadn't called her up for a little cry when things were tough. she's a maths teacher at secondary level (hence her and john talk shop) because of an OU degree she studied for while i was at secondary school (i shouted 'MITCHELLL!' a la a football fan at her graduation and nearly got beats from my grandmother). i inherited my surreal sense of humour from my mum, for definite, and the pair of us have a tendency towards lots of wine, terrible behaviour, and hysterical laughter when we're together. when we argue, it's definitely panic stations though, because we're so similar that neither of us back down, and one of us has to walk away. she has literally just walked in, sparked up a fag, poured a glass of red and is chatting at me now about my little brother's 21st, so i'm not sure how much else i'm gonna be able to write. she is the strongest woman i know, even if she doesn't think it, having lived through and dealt with two seperations, my stepdad's suicide, raising a mentally ill teenager who got bullied mercilessly and had a problematic school life, and still carrying on. she has a boyfriend called bob, who is a builder, and a nutter, and they spend weekends together either here, or at his. okay, she's now talking at me too much about some weird neapolitan bakewell tarts she bought 'cos they excited her' at sainsburys so i'm going to have to go. i have told her she's ruining me saying nice things about her on the internet, but no deal. never mind.