A Late Night With L

It’s a fact that I must come to terms with – teenage daughters don’t much like spending time with their Dad. It’s something that really bothers me. This child that we have raised, loved, protected, fed, watered and clothed suddenly decrees independance. But there’s something that will bring them back. No, not the Wi-Fi password, being ill.

As I write this impromptu post I am sat on the end of L’s bed (I say bed, but in fact it’s her mattress on the floor, but that’s another story) as she burns a temperature that’s high enough to warrant me being a worried parent. She’s the last of us to get this virus and it seems to have hit her the worst. I feel for her, she’s a terrible patient and doesn’t do being ill.

After sitting with me all evening, an occurrence rarer than Donald Trump making sense, coughing and sputtering but otherwise not seeming too bad, she decided to take her temperature. I immediately plied her with ibuprofen and water then dispatched her to bed. I said I’d be checking in her in half an hour.

And so I did. Not a bit of improvement in the temperature. This was probably due to her wrapping herself up in her quilt like a sausage roll! So, that’s how I came to be spending my late evening sat on her bed (matress) and typing this.

My point is this: no matter how independent your children (teenage daughters in particular) think they are, they will always need their Mum or Dad. Heck, I’m approaching 39 and I still need my Mum! They always come back, all is not lost.

I’ll take these moments of feeling needed, they’ll certainly get fewer over the coming years. It will be these moments I remember, not those where we’ve argued til we’re blue in the the face about something very insignificant.

Thanks for reading, I’ve passed another 30 minutes and it’s time for another temperature check. It’s come down, thank goodness. I might even get to my own bed soon.

Dave


 

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