Okay. So, I know she's been telling you about our University visits. I know because other people mention it. I don't read her blogs because, well, I don't often read but if I did I wouldn't pick the ramblings of a mad woman that I am unfortunate enough to have to live with on a day to day basis. After we went to Southampton she wrote that I was a disappointment. All because she wants to have coffee with a friend. Now that we've finished I thought you might like to hear my side of the story.
Parents! I know that everyone's parents are embarrassing but mine take it to a whole new level.
It's always worse at the Unis I actually like.
At Sussex my mum went around 'tidying up' the Rubic's cubes, while Dad was arranging golf games with the head of maths. They loudly discussed everything.
Yesterday, we went to Nottingham.
It's pretty. Even in the rain.
"It wins the prize for the best lake," my mum told anyone who'd listen. "You should make the most of it while you're here," she told students, "You'll miss it when you've left."
How can you miss a lake?
I'm surprised they didn't ask.
Students and lecturers came over and said, "Maths?"
The parents laughed, "That obvious is it?"
How could they not have noticed all maths students had been given a green bag?
"Any questions?" was the standard opening line. I had no questions and said so. My Parents do not understand this. They feel they have to invent questions and the whole thing becomes some kind of squirmy interrogation.
Mum was particularly embarrassing. She was having one of her 'perfectly fine' days; leaning on walls, going pale, always being the last one up the hill and answering, "perfectly fine," whenever anyone asked if she was OK. It is, I suppose, preferable to her telling people about being a woman of a certain age and her internal bits. Amazingly clumsy, as ever, she managed to cause a commotion by tripping over something every time she left a room. I would have preferred her to be like every other middle class, aspirational Essex parent we saw but, as she loudly said, she couldn't manage that shade of orange set off by the fluorescent white tooth strip.
I really liked Nottingham but I don't think I could go there now. What if they remember my parents?
"Oh, goody, I love a crossword." Mum and Dad were excited by the lunchtime puzzle we were given.
"Why will he let you help but not me?" Dad complained.
"He's not really letting me. I'm just better at reading upside down. Ha ha. If they don't wash they're smellyphants. That's the best crossword clue ever."
I'm sure I was meant to do it on my own.
The lecturer was trying to be funny, I know but the phrase, "sock related angst" shouldn't have caused snorting.
What if I decide to go there and I end up in a pass group led by the student mum chose to interrogate about accommodation?
"So, did you live in halls in the first year?"
"Yeah."
"Did you like it?"
"Yeah."
"Which one were you in?"
"Hugh Stewart."
"Sounds like a Seventies paedophile. Was that catered?"
"Yeah. It was just easier. I like cooking an'all that but, you know, didn't have to think."
"If you could have first year again, would you do the same?"
"Yeah."
"No regrets?"
"Nah."
"So are you out........."
Her memory fails her.
"I beg your pardon."
"I'm mean, this year, you're living in.."
"I'm in a house this year."
"A house over in, erm, over that side."
"My house is in Lenton."
"Ah yes, Lenton that's the word I was struggling for. I meant to say, 'Are you living out in Lenton this year?" not 'Are you out?' , which, quite frankly is a bit of a personal question."
My parents have made it impossible for me but if I didn't go....
Quick. Log onto UCAS. Click. Accept.
I'll be in my room for the next few months - just got a few As to get.
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