SWEET AND SOUR

The husband and I thought we would go and visit the FED ( favourite eldest daughter) and the FYD ( favourite youngest daughter) in the big city. They in turn seemed pleased with the idea and even attempted to clean the unit to a state that would please both parents. Much to the husband's delight (he is a cleanaholic) they didn't do a great job and this gave him lots to whinge about and fix up while visiting his two children.

Every visit starts off with readjusting back to four. This is especially true in the car when two adult size women occupy the back seat as they did when children. There is much grunting and moaning but in truth both are pleased because this is one load of petrol they don't have to pay for. The husband starts the car and roars the same thing to them he has done for almost twenty years, " Quiet in the back seat". Where once this used to elicit giggles now it gets " Dad can you just drive!". Great start.

The readjusting continues in our conversation, but eventually some sort of truce is subconsciously reached between children and parents. My version goes like this:

We love you both more than words could explain but rest easy we're not moving in and neither for that matter are you moving back home. Yes we are here to check up on you and remind you what behaviours are socially acceptable and which ones will lead you to places you never knew existed. Yes we will clean your kitchen, water your plants, hang out washing, fix your car and take you out for dinner. Yes you will love us and you will hate us and both emotions are ok. It means we're doing our job. We will speak our mind and you will listen or read about it on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, blogger, SMS and anything else I think about. And if we forget to say something, prepare to be skyped or face timed later...you taught us, now face the consequences. Tough love...yeah baby! But we DO love you.

With that settled the weekend proceeded without a hitch. We even managed a pleasant afternoon tea with extended family and a lovely night watching the FYD strut her stuff with her acting mates. It was an interesting night because I was prepared to be bored and was anything but. I wasn't sure than a performance without speech was my cup of tea BUT I was mesmerised. It was fantastic! 

The FYD complains that I never write about her. How she knows that, when she also professes never to read my blog is strange. However, I will test the waters here by saying :

My dear daughter (my favourite youngest daughter in fact), I don't think you know how talented you are. Everytime I see you perform be it dancing, singing and now acting I am filled with such pride.

  I thought I would get that in before watching the Shakespeare act she is dreading performing. She and Will are not really the best of mates at the moment and there is a tussle of "wills" going on. Will let you know who wins. I've got my money on ...

And then it happens. 

The FED wakes up with a headache. The word headache in this family is a curse word. It means something is wrong and someone's brain is playing up. Surely not? It's been a good five weeks since surgery and she's been so well. "Let's try some Panadol and see how we go...everyone gets a headache sometime".

She seems better and waves us on our way. It's a five hour trip and I hesitate as we leave. My mummy radar is on full beam. Something is wrong and I can feel it. But she is twenty and I don't want to be over protective. I want her to call the shots. So we leave. But I'm not happy and I can't settle.

In the five hours it takes to get home she gets worse. Come morning her sister calls an ambulance and heads off to hospital with her. Not yet recovered from a long trip plus a sleepless night, we have no option but to get into the car and to retrace our route back to the city.

 It's a quiet trip except for two pounding hearts.

Till next time...xxx