Janet Christie: Oh. I’d thought we all got along

YOUNGEST Child and two of her little friends/evil cohort are in the back of the car chatting as I ferry them to one of their many activities.

Today it’s Home Kitchen Taxidermy or Waterboarding for Beginners, whatever. I listen to them blether, conscious I’m no longer allowed to join in since they told me there was nothing more uncool than a mother who chats to her child’s friends.

“Yeah,” said Youngest Child. “I hate it when my mum talks to my friends as if they’re her friends.”

“Soooooo embarrassing,” said her friends.

Oh. I’d thought we all got along; thought I was part of the gang. Now ostracised, I’m reduced to listening to the conversation, an outsider, biting back my interjections as I perform my role of driver, silent.

“So I said to him, it’s not working out.” My ears prick up.

“It’s the best way,” agrees another.

“Unless they’ve really annoyed you, just say, “THAT’S IT! IT’S OVER!”.

“I said that,” says one. “Whatshisname invited me over to his house and wanted to play … FAMILIES.” (Her voice drips disdain). “OMG, FAMILIES.”

“NO! What a loser.”

“Yeah. I want someone who’ll play on the trampoline or tennis – not FAMILIES. I couldn’t be with someone who wanted to play FAMILIES. So I had to dump him fast.”

I fear for the next generation.