Twenty One
My eldest daughter is 21 years old today. I guess that means she's a “proper” grown-up now. Even though she still lives with us, we've been slowly shifting responsibility for things to her – simple things like her phone. She has her own phone contract now in her own name, being paid from her own bank account.
It's funny – the whole process of “bringing up” and then “letting go”. There's no instruction book for it, perhaps because everybody is different. Some kids stand on their own two feet early. Some kids leave the nest as soon as they can. Some never leave.
I'm always fascinated – talking to friends around the world – at how different cultures operate around the “family unit”. In England I tend to think the whole “standoffish” thing has permeated society in general; it sort of explains why there's this expectation to leave home – to strike out on our own in the world. In many other countries you commonly find several generations of the same family living under the same roof.
We decorated the living room with balloons and streamers late last night. I'm wondering how long it will take for it all to fall to pieces and look like some kind of drunken accident in a glitter factory.
Anyway.
Today is Saturday. I'm two coffees, toast, and cereals into the day so far. It's almost 11am. The washing machine will be finished soon. The chores never end.