Every day, in every way something happens to make me feel older. And not necessarily older in a good way. Usually it's some piece of nostalgia drifting into my consciousness via a song on the radio, a TV programme or an inadvertent reference to something from a bygone era. You know the sort of thing, when someone drops into a conversation the fact that the nearest phone box typically was out of action because someone had shoved a bent 2 pence piece in.
But yesterday was a real low in feeling old.
Kid had her first driving lesson. Yep, that scruffy urchin, that sweet natured little girl, that typically dozy teenager who now attends college, has a 20 year old boyfriend, comes in after I've gone to bed is now learning to drive.
The penultimate nail in the coffin of parental dependency is being rammed home.
I saw her pull the car up outside the house at the end and the feeling of pride was punctured by the feeling of wrongness and resignation that it's just a matter of time now before she flies the nest.
Oh dear.
But yesterday was a real low in feeling old.
Kid had her first driving lesson. Yep, that scruffy urchin, that sweet natured little girl, that typically dozy teenager who now attends college, has a 20 year old boyfriend, comes in after I've gone to bed is now learning to drive.
The penultimate nail in the coffin of parental dependency is being rammed home.
I saw her pull the car up outside the house at the end and the feeling of pride was punctured by the feeling of wrongness and resignation that it's just a matter of time now before she flies the nest.
Oh dear.
Later, GJ
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