Parent's evening

Tonight I have to go to the parent's evening at the school. My teen has given me strict instructions.

"What are you wearing?" She demands anxiously.

"Um, that black knitted dress I bought in Italy..." I reply

"Ok." Then "What shoes?"

I look down. I'm wearing comfortable black leather open toed sandals from M & S.

"NOT those" she says "something nice"

"Hair?" I continue, slightly sarcastically "Makeup?"

"Makeup. Wear some. But NOT lipstick" I am instructed.

"Then if you arrive early, do not speak to me"my teen commands "if you do see me, just do this..."

She juts her chin up in the air, a brief acknowledgement.

I splutter "So I'm supposed to act like I hardly know you?"

She continues "and DON'T talk to my friends. Don't ask them their names. Don't ask how they are. Don't tell them off for smoking or bunning"

"Bunning?"

Her eyes roll.

"You are sooo old. Bunning is smoking a joint. It comes from the word 'burning' said with a Jamaican accent" she explains patiently. "At the rond point(a small square outside the school), everybody is bunning. Even adults bun. You see them coming after work, sitting down on the wall and bunning up."

"That rond point seems to be the most popular meeting place in London" I remark archly.

"Yeah well our school is popular innit. Kids from other schools come to hang out, cos they finish earlier than us. Boys from local schools come to chat up girls"

It's the age old thing of boys trying to pull posh totty from the private schools.

"One boy, he's slept with like 50 girls from our school. But he is gorgeous, really buff"

('Buff' means good looking, readers. 'Butters' means ugly as in 'butt ugly')

She's not finished...

"When you are in the meeting with other parents, do not ask questions. I know you, you are always asking questions."

I look doubtful.

"Try to blend in mum" she says, softening a little.

Party

The teen had a bit of a party while I was away this weekend. It's the first time I've ever left her alone for any amount of time. I gave extra keys to the neighbours and asked them to keep an eye.

I knew she'd have a couple of mates over...but when I arrived home, she sighed and said

"I'm so tired"

"How come?"

"From all the tidying up..." She looks at me regretfully but continues bravely "they were really messy"

"Didn't your friends help you?"

"No. I had to clear up all the sick." She brightens "It was cool, we got three bottles of vodka for £15 down the road. They knew we were underage."

"Then my friend made out with one of the boys in the shed."

Internally I gulp.

"What exactly does 'making out' consist of?"I ask gingerly, imagining phone calls from the parents...my daughter lost her virginity in your shed...

She groans "Well first you have snogging, then making out, then fingering, then blowjob, then full sex, then licking out."

We've always been quite open about sex but even I was a bit taken aback by this hierarchy of sex territory gained. I'm also interested that fellatio is higher up the scale than cunnilingus.

"So making out is restricted to kissing and tits?" I pry, drawing an imaginary triangle between my mouth and breast area.

My teen rolls her eyes.

"Is this over the bra or under the bra?"

Now she's looking annoyed "Oh for god's sake mum... "

She won't tell me how 'far' she has gone but I don't think it's beyond the 'making out' stage.

But I feel uncomfortable at the idea of some spotty lank haired youth getting a grope of my baby daughter's intimate parts. It doesn't seem right somehow. Them getting that for free. I briefly wish I lived in a culture when I could lock her up in a tower, cover her in a veil and charge a king's ransom for the privilege of marrying her. I also start to feel unaccountably angry, I'm not even sure why. When I lost my virginity, quite late actually, I was almost 18, my mum and dad were horrible to me, calling me a 'slut' for weeks. I now understand that impulse. Your children having sex, even if it's just kissing or petting, feels like a betrayal, almost infidelity. It's like they are no longer your children. There is a raw feeling that they have been besmirched.

I guess you get used to it.

This was a warm up for the real party she is going to have in a couple of weeks.