Mum (and all her flaws)
Quick update: Crap’s been packed, flat’s been left and I’m back in Norway. Semi-permanently. It almost brought a tear to my eye just typing that out, but hopefully, I’ll be back in the UK quicker than my ex can spell “depression”.
So I’m home, and trying to focus on the positives such as having a job, a full fridge, a telly and an ocean view. This is the country where tap water actually tastes like water and everything is so expensive that I’m forced to stay home and save all my money, just out of principle. I also get to spend time with the family. Both my brother and my dad are around, but mostly it’s mum and me at home. It’s lovely. For a few hours. Then I start feeling like I’m 16 again…
Will you switch off the lights? Are you still up!? Are you still asleep!? Don’t you think you could help out a little more? Can you hoover here? You’re making dinner today! Are you coming home tonight? Did you have money for that!? Have you eaten today!? Are you really going to eat that? Does a shower need to be that long? Did you just have a cigarette!? Have you applied for jobs today? Are you awake!? Don’t you think you should work out? What are you watching? Are you eating healthy? Can you help me with my Instagram? Why is there a pout in everyone of your photos? Why is there a drink in everyone of your photos? Nadine, can you help me?
Ohhhhh I could go on. She’s a pain in the backside most of the time, drives me up the wall. I’ve tried every thinkable approach to shut her up, from polite replies and subtle explanations to shouting and straightforward ignoring her. Nothing works on her! So it seems I must admit defeat and accept that she’s my mother, she’s the best, she knows best, and she knows it all. And let’s face it… Without her, I’d probably be a fat uneducated loser with no manners, living in a caravan with my two bastard children, unable to pay my bills as I’d always leave the lights on.
Love you, really.