My ickle daughter’s leaving.
That was when I became confused. Notice the absolute lack of pejorative remarks. No: “Dadsky,” or “pater,” or even “You hate me and wish I was…” etc. In fact nothing at all.
Steeling myself I mumbled a reply of sorts and waited for whatever was to come.
“Me and…” I resisted the compulsion to correct her grammar as I was already afraid.
It seems that my daughter and a friend are going to New York for a holiday.
Eeeks!! My baby is travelling five thousand miles without me. Yes I know she’s almost twenty one but she’s still my baby.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve spent a lot of time in the US and loved it. My personal fave place was Beverly hills where I spent an inordinate amount of time mingling with the the rich and famous. I also visited Manhattan numerous times where I found the driving to be so easy I wish I lived there all the time.
But still, my baby in New York. I can hardly stop her as she is a legal adult (it’s 18 over here)
So, please, be nice to her. But not too nice. I don’t want her deciding that America is better than England, which in reality is the case, and deciding to stay. She’s too young and I’m too selfish.