Tag Archives: teenager envy

Am I a BOB (bitter old bag)?

It’s been a while since my last blog post, but I’ve been in a coma, which I fell into on Christmas Day while reading the instructions for the Disney Fairies Tinkerbell Magical Flower Garden board game. I rallied briefly on Boxing Day, but unfortunately my daughter insisted on trying to play her new Disney Princess Spinning Wishes game, and I had a relapse.
Anyway, I hope everyone had a great Christmas. We drove up to see my husband’s sister, where I spent my time coughing up bile, induced by my 15-year-old niece-in-law’s wonderful life. Not only is she clever, and very pretty, but her social life is fantastic – there are endless sleepovers and parties, for which her mum buys her alcohol, and camping out (with boys as well as girls) during the summer. I had a kneejerk ‘tsk’ of disapproval to that last one until I recognised it for what it was – pure, undiluted jealously of the 1969 vintage. At my niece’s age my social life involved hanging out at female friends’ houses; a typical evening’s entertainment involved putting on a Safeway carrier bag as a skirt, and trying to burst out of it without touching it with your hands before Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Foxy Lady’ finished playing. That’s how exciting my home town – let’s call it Shitewich – was. And even if there were occasional parties and ‘dates’ with 16-year-olds with bum-fluff moustaches, I made it bearable for my ageing female relatives by throwing in a huge dose of self-doubt and Body Dysmorphic Disorder. Which my beautiful niece and her lovely friends seem mercifully to have escaped. And that really is a wonderful thing [sound of typewriter keys being punched so hard they come out the other side of the desk].

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