I was sleeping soundly last night when I hear a knock on my bedroom door.
“Mu-uum! Can I come into YOUR bed! The dog’s done a big poo on my floor and it stinks and I can’t get to sleep!”
So I shove my two naked toyboys (they sleep on either side of me) off of the mattress and call out ‘Shore honeee!’ (no, sorry, that’s what I would have called out if I’d been American, actually I said ‘Yeah, alright’, and in she creeps.
After about half an hour I hear a muffled sniffling. Well, I know stinky dog poos are upsetting but I would’ve thought she was used to them by now so I say ‘What’s the matter? Are you CRYING??’
Turns out, part of ‘the matter’ is that 15 year old Ms M’s been lying awake thinking how ugly she is. She looks like a movie star. I’ve said ‘You’re gorgeous’ so often now there hardly seems any point any more, so I say ‘Well, I think you’re pretty, but, suppose you aren’t. So what? What does it matter? You’ve got so much going for you BESIDES looks. You don’t have to be pretty for someone to love you, you know. Believe me, you don’t.’
Needless to say, that didn’t soothe the savage teenage breast. Next day, yawning at work, I told my co-workers about this incident.
“Oh that’s just teenagers!” they all said. “Didn’t you feel like that when you were a teenager?”
Funnily enough, no. I remember standing in front of mum’s mirror thinking, WHERE are the queues? Man look at this body! Someone should PAINT this perfect visage!
I’m not quite so vain now. Anyway, what I want to know is, DOES everyone go through this stage? And what are you supposed to do about it? Book your daughter in for the next Miss Universe pageant? Advice, please???