That dreaded day when you’re not the coolest person in your child’s life.
‘‘You don’t have to walk me to class any more.’’
It was a knife to my heart.
‘‘I’m sorry, what Ayla?’’
‘‘You know, you’ll probably be late for work.’’
So my 10-year-old is now too cool to have her mum walk with her to class.
Am I really that embarrassing?
She does beg me not to laugh so loud when we’re at the movies.
Although my lol does tend to be a bit more ol than most.
In fact, in Ayla’s recent school play, I was laughing so hard, she kept glaring at me from the stage.
I’m actually a bit worried about looking back at it when the DVD comes out.
There’s nothing worse than listening to your own laugh.
So I guess I can be a teensy bit embarrassing at times.
At least it hasn’t got to the point of me having to drop her off a block away from school.
That reminds me of ‘this one time in high school’.
I think I was in year 9 and a close family friend who was like an uncle to me was going to pick me up from school.
He was as cool as James Dean and had a Triumph motorcycle to match.
So I told him he could pick me up on the bike in front of the school.
When 3pm came around, there he was — black sunglasses and leather jacket on — leaning on the Triumph waiting for me.
A picture of coolness.
He tosses me a helmet as my fellow students stare in awe.
‘‘Let’s hit the road,’’ I call out to him giving everyone a nonchalant wave.
So he goes to kickstart the bike, and nothing.
He tries again. Again nothing.
‘‘What the hell Greg,’’ I whisper through clenched teeth.
Beads of sweat trickle down his face as he tries again.
But it’s no use.
Kids start laughing and yelling out smart remarks.
My coolness rating has gone from 10 to 0 in a matter of seconds.
‘‘If you don’t start this bike right now Greg, I will kill you in my sleep,’’ I screamed in his ear.
I didn’t kill him, but the next time he picked me up, I made sure he parked two blocks from the school gate.
I never did live that down.
Yes, adults are embarrassing.