Friday 12 June 2009

All quiet on the western front (2)

I'm annoyed. Really annoyed. The boy has really p*ssed me off.

We went to a school meeting this week - planning for the school's sports tours for the next three years - anyone for cricket in Namibia? Rugby in Malaysia? Netball in Australia? We bumped into the Deputy Head. Mr Bromfield to the boy. Jeremy to me. When I was at the school he was my history teacher and boarding house master. We all thought he was ancient...turns out he was just half a dozen years older than us. He still looks the same.

Jeremy said to me, "He's taller than you now."

How dare he. The boy, not the teacher. How dare he. I've told him time and time again that he will never be taller than me. Even if he reaches the height of 6', my 178cm will always tower over him. Always. My little boy will always be my little boy.

P.S. Four days to the Kings of Leon


  1. They grow up so fast. My little nephew just graduated from Kindergarten (they had a whole cap and gown ceremony) and as I watched him up on stage singing and dancing I could still picture that little baby I used to hold in my arms. I could still see the little boy who balanced himself on the sofa's edge and then start walking across the room - I know one day he'll be taller than my 178 cm too :-)

  2. I know what you mean - my "little girl" is now four inches taller than me. She pats me on the head!!

  3. Children are doomed to always be children. My mother is smaller than me, but I am still the Wee Yin (my father being the Big Yin).

    Can't schools play sports here to save money?

    PS - 3 days to KoL

  4. Well you did say in your previous posting that you were worried about him not rebelling!

    And you sound a perfectly respectable height to me RTFM. You wouldn't want to be restricted to High & Mighty for your clothes shopping now would you?

    Anyway you might be a late developer who suddenly shoots up once more (perhaps it is not comparable but my bust size shot up from a C to a double FF between my 20s and 30s. To the point I dread them growing any larger, being now doomed to ugly big girls' bras. No dainty spaghetti straps for me!


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