When Thomas was a baby he had to have a small operation to correct a testicular torsion. Basically his tubes were a bit twisted.
While he was in theatre I was chatting to another lady who was also waiting on the ward. I asked her what her grandson was in for and she told me he was having a vasectomy, which I thought was weird because he couldn’t have been more than three years old. When the little boys mother came back to the ward the lady I had been speaking to said “it is a vasectomy he’s having isn’t it?. Rolling her eyes, the mother replied “no mam he’s being circumsised”.
Anyway, when Thomas was older he would often ask what the scar was from and I told him it was where he’d had a third testicle removed. I gave him a different reason for this every time. Sometimes the extra bollock was in the shape of a foam hand pointing, like you get at American baseball games, sometimes it was a V sign. I gave this answer repeatedly right up until he was 18 last month.
When he was about 7 years old I told him that when the ice-cream van put the music on that meant he’d run out of ice-cream. One day he was pegging it down the road after the van and the the music started, he stopped running and burst into tears.
He must have been around age twelve when he asked me what the legal age for sex was. I told him he was allowed to have sex when he was 21. This backfired when in a sex education class the teacher asked what the legal age of consent was and in the style of the ever enthusiastic Hermione Granger, T thrust his hand in the air and declared “TWENTY ONE MISS!”
These are the lies I have told my son over the years for my own amusement. He no longer believes everything I say but I have told him lots of truthful things. I’ve told him that I only ever expect him to do his best and try his hardest and if he can honestly say he’s done that then it’s all I can ask. I told him that I may not always like him but I will always love him. I told him that I’m proud of him and I will always try to help and support him. Ironically I’ve told him that I expect him to always tell me the truth but more importantly to be honest with himself.
The big moment of truth is tomorrow. It’s A Level results day. This is his second attempt. He fucked up the first year and he will admit this. I was proud of him for going back and starting over again but honestly, I’ll be disappointed if he hasn’t done well and I know he will too.
I remember the morning I went to collect my own A- level results. As I was about to walk out of the front door my father took me to one side and said “you’d better hope you’ve passed because you’re moving out either way”. It was so cruel it took my breath away. Thomas if you’re reading this please know how much I love you and how much I want you to do well and be happy. Whatever happens tomorrow we’ll deal with it together and I will always be proud of you. Love Mum. Xx