In the run up to my 20th birthday which falls on Mother’s Day at the end of this week, I have been thinking about the help my mother has given me throughout my childhood and teenage years.
For those of you reading this who are over the age of twenty, you will probably be cursing me for being quite depressed at the thought of my upcoming birthday. Twenty, to me, signifies becoming ‘old’ in the sense that I will no longer be classed as a teenager, and will have to officially start my transition into adulthood.
Something which has prepared me for adulthood since going to university has been having to run my own life without my mother around! While I was living at home it seemed to me that I was living some kind of Mary Poppins’ style life, where my meals appeared on the table in front of me each evening, my clothes appeared to wash and fold themselves neatly into my drawers and, if left in a mess long enough, my room would tidy itself whilst I was out.
Of course these were not signs of an amazing, mystical world; there were the results of my mother’s silent actions of love and care. I realise now that I should not have taken this for granted as I am now living in a world where I have to clean my room with a communal vacuum, which is always full, where I have had to expand my cooking knowledge beyond the usual limitations of a packet of super noodles, and where I have to wait two hours for my clothes to go through the tumble drier. I can vaguely recall my mother warning me of what a shock it would be when I would have to start being responsible for myself, although those warnings were often drowned out amongst thoughts of student bars and cheap shopping.
When my friends and I go to the laundry room it is clear that I am not the only person who failed to listen to their mother’s instructions before heading to university. Every week, without fail, at least one of us becomes overwhelmed by the fear of accidently mixing lights and darks, or washing our clothes at the wrong temperature and ending up with a wardrobe of clothes that are only fit for a Barbie doll. There are always awkward moments when you ask someone if they think it will be safe to put certain items together, and instantly you can tell by the look of their face that they have absolutely no idea; the best they can do is guess and cross their fingers that the clothes don’t get ruined .
I am not sure if it is more surprising that people actually try to guess the answers to the puzzles of laundry, or that the person asking will take the advice even in the knowledge that their friend was only guessing!
I will always remember during the very first visit to the laundry, one of my friends became so confused that she rang her mother and described each item of clothing she was washing, while her mother told her which ones to put together. That may sound quite ridiculous, but was nothing compared to the boy who tried to wash all of his clothes by putting ‘Finish’ dishwasher tablets in the washing machine.
University life would be a lot more simple if you were allowed to bring your mother along to help with the chores – or even just one mother per 5 students would suffice. For those of you living at home with your mums, make sure you appreciate all the help that they give you, and that you actually listen to their advice, you do not want to be the person washing their clothes in ‘Finish’.
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