‘I’m going to this party mum, and that’s the end of it,’ my daughter Sam stated.
‘Are you? I’ll decide about the end of it,’ I said firmly.
Sam put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, when you’ve decided, can you let me know?’
‘Don’t you be so cheeky, young lady!’ I wagged my finger, yet I tried to keep my tone jokey.
I really hated bickering with Sam – so I reached a quick compromise.
‘Look, you can go to the party, but I’d like you home, safe and well, by ten thirty.’
I thought she’d be thrilled that I’d given her my permission, but instead, she looked aghast.
‘Ten thirty. Are you kidding?’
‘Take it or leave it.’
She sighed. ‘Right. I’ll take it.’
I touched her gently on the shoulder. ‘You know how much I worry about you.’
She nodded. ‘ I know. I’m sorry for arguing, Mum.’
We hugged and I blinked back tears. My little Sam was growing up fast! My mind flew back…
Last week, Sam announced that she’d been invited to a party, thrown by ‘Perfect Penny’ as Sam liked to called her.
‘Everyone’s going and as I’ve been invited too, that must mean they want me to join their crowd!’ she’d squealed.
At school, self- assured, confident Penny was the most popular in an elite group. I realised that Sam wanted to ingratiate herself with them, but… I hesitated. Was this a wise course of action? Parties meant drink, smoking, and goodness what else… plus, loud music blasting out. Then there’s meeting complete strangers – which could mean older guys. If this party invite was posted on social media, I thought, there was a strong possibility of trouble- making gate crashers. I pictured a crew rocking up on motorbikes. No doubt they’d be long- haired, heavily bearded, tattooed blokes sporting leather jackets and ripped jeans, laughing loudly and disturbing the neighbours… I gulped. I held reservations, yet I kept my own counsel.
I’d brought Sam up on my own, so we were close. I was pleased and proud that she’d done well at school. But Sam found it difficult to make friends.
‘At break time, I talk about the weather, celebs, soaps – but Penny and co huddle into their own little circle,’ she’d said sadly.
‘They’re not worth bothering about. I’d forget about them and focus on your school work instead,’ I’d soothed.
‘I’ll do that.’ And she did.
When the party invite arrived, Sam was over the moon. Yet I wondered if it would all end in tears…
Last Saturday, we’d gone into town shopping and Sam had bought some new party outfits with money she’d saved. I didn’t like the majority of outfits Sam selected. They were either too glittery or too tight fitting.
‘I have to pick something mum!’ she wailed.
Then Sam picked out a dress with a low neck and a high hemline.
‘Hmm… I’m not sure, love,’ I murmured.
To my surprise, she agreed.
‘Yes, it’s a bit revealing, isn’t it? How about this one?’
In the end, she bought two sensible (but sophisticated) velvet dresses – one scarlet red and one dark blue – plus a pair of silver low heels and a sparkly bag to match.
On the evening of the party, Sam looked stunning. Her long blonde hair shone, the red dress clung to her curves and the shoes and bag added that extra touch of finesse.
‘Please promise me that you’ll avoid any gatecrashes,’ I said.
Thank goodness the invite hadn’t been posted on social media! I thought.
She cast her eyes up. ‘Oh mum!’
‘Don’t forget your mobile and ring me if you need anything.’
‘Look, I can’t promise to be back by ten thirty. I’ll ring for a taxi when I’m ready go.’
I felt reassured. ‘Good. Just go and enjoy yourself.’
Well, I reasoned, I had to learn to let go sometime!
‘Being a new teacher, it’s important to socialise with colleagues. Penny’s the head. I can’t say no to my boss!’ Sam grinned, as she stepped out into the night.
