My teen daughter, Chantelle, has been craving McDonald’s “Cuppa-cake” dessert (I’m sure English-first-language South Africans only ever called it “pudding” when I was young?) and went as far as getting her boyfriend to get his mom to take them there for it,
but when she ordered, they told her it’s only for sale in the winter months.
So this morning, she decided to use some off her Sunday-TV-off-time to make microwave “cuppa cakes”.
I had pretty much everything she needed in the kitchen cupboard;
I am surprisingly organised and well-equipped for a “loser” (according to a certain part of society);
but oil and milk were low, and loo paper, too.
Thankfully I had enough money, so I sent her younger brother with her to the corner Spar to get a few groceries.
It’s a bit of a dodgy area, but I felt they were ready;
also, it’s a Sunday and many of the neighbours are at home and in their gardens.
When they got back, I was so impressed that Chantelle had risen to the challenge (she’s always been terrified of dealing with strangers) and also, that she’d chosen all the items according to what she’s learnt from spending so much time shopping with me.
As I praised her achievement with such awe and joy, she glowed and blossomed with confidence,
I swear she GREW, before my very eyes.
I’m absolutely loving parenthood,
more than ever, every year.