Red Mum column December 1

HERE'S this week’s Red Mum article from The Echo about the teenager’s dream, a free house.



If you saw last week’s column you’ll notice that it is laid out a bit differently and I think it looks better, but they forgot the blog link.

Ah well I suppose there will be some gremlins until we all find a format that suits it.

Teen-crazed Free Houses and inadvertent phone messages

FRIDAY should be a good day. After a hectic week in work there is nothing nicer than getting home, getting a big fire on, opening the wine and chilling out completely.

Only the Young Wan outdid herself on Friday a couple of weeks ago making it an awful day, for both of us.

It was the first day she was on her own after school since her Nan has come to finish a month ago and did she go for it or what!

It may sound strict but I do not allow her to have friends in when I’m at work. Can you imagine the damage a gang could do, particularly at their age?

Aside from which she is grounded so friends calling is a no no and not to mention the fact that with three people in my small flat at the minute, it looks like a bomb hit it.

At one point just before finishing up in work I got a call from her on my mobile but was just unable to take it at that point.

When I tried to call her back a couple of minutes later the phone was engaged. Some 10 minutes later it was still engaged, 15 minutes still engaged, etc.

Then a message came through and I listened to it… Oh my God. There was a teen-crazed, frenzy, free-house party going on.

I listened to the hollers and hoops, the screams, shouts and belly-laughs, I was listening to the craziness that was going on in my flat when she had inadvertently phoned me AND left the evidence in a very long and very informative message.

When I was finally able to get through to her, a long time later, I was livid, absolutely stark-raving mad.

Course the background noise in the house was gone, things were as hush as hush can be, the little sneaky bollixes. And the Young Wan had little to say for herself in between my rantings.

After hanging off in disgust I called her again and obviously one of her pals, and not a bright spark by the sounds of it, must have suggested she claim the noise was the telly. Or lets be honest, maybe the Young Wan thought of it herself reckoning it was a good excuse.

*Sigh*

And she did claim that – the mad ‘un, Holy Jaysus, just how daft does she think I am? Don’t answer that, I know she thinks I am a big fool.

So it was tense to say the least when I came in, there was lots of shouting from me, lots of blank looks from herself, so I told her to tidy her room.

And she went to her room, lay down and fell asleep….

Fast forward through more shouting (what must the neighbours think?), I have made her a pile, you know the type, it’s the size of a small van and is made up of the vast mess that decorates her room.

She’s now in bed in disgrace and will be up at 8am to tidy it up.

And me, I am sitting in front of a lovely fire, with a glass of wine, I am hoping there is a movie on and I am going to chill out for Ireland if it kills me.

Another couple of years of this and you could/will be visiting me in a mental hospital.

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