I haven’t wronged my Mum knowingly, not that I know of anyway, but I felt compelled to apologise for something that I feel my karma has caught up with.
Like any good story, one must start at the top. I’ve always loved the trinkets my Mum has owned, I’d get my friends to come over and we would play with her expensive French chiffon and silk Indian scarves, get her saris out and wear them with her high heels and play dress up, take from her dressing table whatever tickled my fancy, help myself to her makeup even though I wasn’t allowed to wear and then hide her favourite lipstick after breaking it because opening it too much then applying it really hard that it breaks.
Aaaah… the good old days of when you could nick anything from Mum and get away with it because Mum loves you and you’ll only be told off a little bit because Mum loves you more than her things.
Fast forward thirty years on, I’m a mother of a teenager and my karma has come back to bite me hard. My daughter thinks nothing of helping herself to my things and ruining them completely. At least I had some fear of getting caught or told off but this new generation that I seem to have given birth to doesn’t care a toss about how hard I have worked to treat myself to that designer lipstick or the perfume I’ve bought myself. She doesn’t touch my clothes because she says my clothes are ‘mummy type’. I didn’t know if I should be offended or flattered at that!
Thankfully my shoes are safe because of several reasons. Her foot is bigger than mine is the first one. Also she’s really tall, almost 5’10” and doesn’t look her 15 years at all. The good thing is that she’s not into playing with my saris but she does go out of her way to destroy my make up. She’s taken to watching YouTube videos and tries all sorts of techniques with my make up and brushes, ruins my palettes, doesn’t clean my brushes and here’s the worst thing – she helps herself to whatever tickles her fancy. This is such a déjà vu moment for me.
I told my mum about this and she started cackling. Yes. Cackling. Not laugh or smile, but a real cackle that had me questioning my birth certificate, wondering if I was the adopted child because of the way she was laughing at me.
Amidst all this sudden mirth that had befallen her, she told me I used to do the same things to her and she used to get pretty annoyed but used to leave me alone to explore and only ever stepped in if I went out of line. Excuse me? I got yelled every time! She cackled again and said, ‘I rest my case’.
They say that the reason why grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is because they have a common enemy. I can now understand why my Mum and daughter always seem to be in cahoots – I was really tight with my Grandma too!
I’m sorry I ruined your things Mum. Now can you PLEASE make your granddaughter stop from ruining MY things? Please!