Janet Christie: “You’ve been interfering too much in my life, Smother”

Now that the boys are taller than me – so tall in fact that I wasn’t able to skite Middle Child across the back of the head for cheek this week thanks to his graceful, giraffe-style sidestep evasion – they think I should be loosening the apron strings.

“You have been interfering far too much in my life lately, Smother,” announces Middle Child. (I went to parents’ night). “And it’s got to stop. You need to go and speak to someone about your anxiety issues. “Anyway, for my work experience, you’re not involved. I’ve sorted it out and you just need to sign the consent form. Oh, and ...”

“What?”

“Could you maybe just phone the woman up and arrange the interview for me?”

Next I’m putting Eldest and his pal on a train for a weekend jaunt.

“No need for you to stand and wait for the train to leave, ha, ha,” Eldest texts me as I watch them settling in.

“Oh, OK. Bye then, xoxoxo,” I text back, then force myself to walk away. But not without checking their carriage is going to Newcastle (ie. it’s not one of those splitting trains where you wind up in Bologna) and asking the guard if it is indeed stopping in Newcastle (“I bloody hope so cos that’s where I’m getting off!”).

Twenty minutes later, a text: “Mum, are you sure we’re on the right train?”

Aw. They do still need me.