My mum and the bad girl

Waiting again. And I don't like the fact that this is becoming a regular Friday thing. That spells out timetables and I do not like timetables. My mother had them. Monday was washing day, Tuesday was washing her mother's house day, Wednesday was the take it easy day, Thursday was washing the upstairs floor day, Friday was the downstairs. And washing day was an every day thing. Oh dear this sounds so terrible, but I really wonder how any woman could have lived a life like that. And it's not as if I have a stupid mum, although sometimes I really think all her religious addictions have turned her dumb. But she was (is) a mum with a degree on her shoulder, something which wasn't that popular in those days. And yet she let all of the housekeeping/religious dung go straight to her head. I had a sexy mum with unsexy schedules and even more unsexy thoughts and probably an unsexy lifestyle. At my age, she was already leading the granny kind of lifestyle, and not of the sexy nowadays type. When I remember I start feeling sorry for her kids, myself in particular, seeing I was the one who paved the way for my dear twin. I wanted to stay out later then 10pm, of course that was turmoil, but I stayed out anyway. I hate to say that seeing that my mum was, in my opinion at that time, being unreasonable, then I'd return home at 10 all right, only it would be 10 am, the following day. Oh God what a rebel. So when my very good twin stayed out till midnight, in my mum's eyes he was a saint. Yeah right, a saint. My mum still thinks she did all the good things about parenting while I did all the wrong things in daughtering. But I don't think I did. I wanted to party. I got good grades in every sphere, I fell in love, in lust, and her idea of her daughter finding a good man at 18 just wasn't on. It started so earlier. But she seemed to think that there was kind of love machine, one falls in love at 18. Sorry mum it happened at 14, so get used to it. Which she never did. Get used to it, that is. And then again, and again, and again, and again until I lost count. However can anybody explain to a woman who has married her only boyfriend, that her daughter was not getting so lucky and so the boys started growing up into men. And that suddenly my mum thought I wasn't young anymore so I'd find the one. Grow up mum and see the world as it really is. She didn't. Grow up that is, and she hasn't. And when I take a good look at myself in the mirror I am surprised at the change that has happened. Teenage tearaway me, the one who'd stay out all night, who would see dawn plenty of times, has been transformed into this very normal girl (yes I resist the world woman), and it's hard to remember me in those 80's stilettos all day long, in that pink dramatic eyeshadow, and in those micro skirts. But yes it's happened. Every dog has it's day. I did too. It's hard to believe that I have been transformed into this tame-looking thing. Where did all the bad-girl image go? I guess it's fallen somewhere along the path of good sense, or perhaps nonsense. I just wish I knew at 14 what I know now. It would have pleased mum no end. As it is, it still doesn't please her. So I've just taken a very long break and accepted that while some girls stick to their mummies with imaginary superglue, well, I'm not one of those, and will never be.