The Youngest of the Darling Daughters was invited for a special evening out yesterday - with her own Darling Daughter. You don’t usually expect teenagers to want to spend time with their Aged Parents but isn’t
it just lovely when they do?
There is nothing quite like a Mother and Daughter Day. Wonderful though it is to gather the whole family around you, there is also
something special about having just one of your children all to yourself for a while. Believe me, when they are all grown up it is even more a cause for celebration.
Some years ago the Y of the DDs asked me to be her guest on a spa weekend. It was in the early days of motherhood and she was completely sleep-deprived so she was particularly looking forward to an undisturbed night. It wasn’t to be. After
a fabulous day floating around in our white towelling robes (it took us a little while to get used to wandering about in a state of undress, but once we had grasped the hang of it we were as relaxed as anyone) several beauty treatments (I needed them more
than she did)and a totally delicious evening meal, we decided on an early night. Unfortunately all the toxins released from my body by a super-efficient massage combined to give me a massive headache which woke me in the small hours. Blundering about the room
in search of paracetamol, I woke my poor daughter from her much-needed slumber. I was extremely ashamed of myself.
I still remember the lovely day spent
with the Eldest of the Darling Daughters in Chichester Cathedral, where we discovered the Arundel Tomb and quoted Philip Larkin at each other. Regular blog readers may also remember reading about my day out in Odiham last summer with the youngest of
my girls. Before Young Faris came on the scene, the Middle of the Darling Daughters and I enjoyed many a visit to places of culture during her school holidays. Well, I say culture, because we always tried to hang our visit loosely around an exhibition or a
museum trip. What would actually happen is that we would meet up at Victoria Station, outside the Ladies loos, the M of the DDs all ready with a 20p for me so that I could use the facilities. (One day on a visit to London with her sister she surprised
me – I wasn’t expecting her until I received a text from her saying “I am you know where, with you know what.”) After the loo trip, we would obviously need a coffee before heading off to wherever we were going – plus another one
when we arrived. A break for our soundbite of culture then it would be back to the cafe for a leisurely lunch and more chat. Coffee, Company and Conversation – that’s what Mother and Daughter Days are all about.
To be fair, Mother and Son days are every bit as special. Here are two I remember, both celebrating My Boy’s birthday but with several years in between. The first was
when he was about 18 and at Uni and we met up to see Phantom of the Opera. “I’ll buy you a gin and tonic at the interval,” he promised me, grandly – but when we discovered the prices of drinks at the bar, I suggested that taking
the air on the balcony would be a better way of spending the next fifteen minutes. His relief was palpable.
The second birthday treat was just a couple of years ago in Cardiff – his Little
Welsh Boys were at a party and we found ourselves, just the two of us, wandering the city centre, visiting the new library, buying him a shirt for his present and finishing up in a tapas bar where we enjoyed food and, you’ve guessed it, coffee, company
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters and her own Darling Daughter went first to Wagamamas, then to the cinema to see a film called Divergent
which is apparently a bit like Hunger Games. Kids who are selfless, peace-loving, honest, intelligent and brave are labelled divergent in the scary new world depicted in the film. I forgot to ask my daughter if she enjoyed the film but to be honest I am pretty
sure it was her girl's company which meant more than the interpretation of Veronica Roth’s book. After the film the two of them finished their day out with coffee and Oreo milkshakes (no prizes for guessing who had what.)
It sounds remarkably like the many Mother and Daughter Days I have enjoyed and am still enjoying. I am probably fooling myself to think I had anything to do with it but maybe, just maybe, I have been
setting a good example?
If so, may it be the first of many, many similar Days Out for my daughter and her girl – establishing a precious pattern which will
pass onto the next generation of Mothers and Daughters.
The participants will change, along with the venues, the choice of food and drinks and the cost of a trip
to the loo (it’s already up to 30p at Victoria Station.) Everything else will be just the same. It’s a perfectly simple mathematical equation:
+ Daughter + Day Out = A Time to Remember.