My teenage son is on holiday AGAIN. This time only a 10 day jaunt to Shagalouf with about ten mates (where my mother says he is definitely going to catch something revolting if he even steps foot outside his room). We are both getting pretty blasé about him disappearing off into the world – this time it was just a cursory checklist from me “tickets, passport, money, condoms (joke)” check to all, followed by a big hug and a wave. Ten days is nothing after surviving four months of worry about him in South East Asia – he’ll be back before I’ve even noticed he’s gone.
Disappointing to have been talking to another parent of a “just back from gap year travels” 19 year old a couple of days ago. He proudly announced how impressed he was with how his son has changed – “he’s matured so much in that time….I think gap years are essential because he really has benefited in every way – SO grown up now – did you find the same thing?”.
Um. Nope.
My son does not appear to have changed at all. I did look for it the minute I saw him. That change in the look in his eye. That knowing look. That hint of responsibility seeping in around the edges through his pores. But no. All I could see was a broken leg, some mosquito bites, a few more facial hairs and 85,000 wrist bands. He’s been back nearly a month and nothing new has come out of his mouth yet. No pearls of wisdom at all…and I’m certainly not expecting any when he gets back from Magaluf. Just maybe a few more dead brain cells.
Oh well. You can’t have everything. He’s loving every minute and working hard to pay for it all. Why not. You only live once and surely something is going in?? Learning how to live in the big wide world??
