Susan Morrison: Complexities in raising a son

Once out of his lair, the teenage one seemed to enjoy The Venetian Twins. Picture: Getty
Once out of his lair, the teenage one seemed to enjoy The Venetian Twins. Picture: Getty
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So, The Son is now 16. How did this happen? After all, only days ago he was wrapped up in a bright yellow blanket, safely stowed in a car seat that could have withstood the impact of a head-on collision with the Caledonian Sleeper.

Only the day after, he was a gorgeous little boy with bouncy blonde curls running about a Bank of Scotland being cooed and adored by every woman within 200 yards.

I’m sure it was just last week he called me back because I nearly went out the door without giving him a cuddle. He was waiting with his little arms held wide for a hug.

And yes, I know this is potentially the most embarrassing thing that a 16-year-old boy can ever see in print, and that’s why I’m doing it.

There is no point to being a mother, and the mother of a 16-year-old lad at that, if you can’t make him blush now and then. Fortunately, the default setting for Scottish teenage boy is Defcon 2 for Pure Deid Riddie Beamer w’ Embarrassment.

He seems to have suddenly 
expanded. He’s taking up all the room, like an airbag in a car being driven by that Hammond bloke.

One minute you can swing him up like hand luggage on a budget airline and the next you ask him to move because you can’t see the screen. In the cinema.

Once he was tiny and delicate. Now he moves like a lumbering giant through a landscape littered with smashed glasses, overturned occasional tables and toppled mugs seeping coffee dregs into the carpet. There’s a force field of destruction surrounding him. He’s Godzilla in a T-shirt.

He only ventures forth from his lair – well, bedroom – when he needs to hunt for Irn-Bru and crisps.

Mind you, he’s quite artistic. I know this because he’s building some sort of art installation with the empty cans. I think it’s a scale model of Ben Nevis with crisp poke slopes. Sneer not. If that was Tracey Emin, we’d be looking at a hefty price tag and a queue of overexcited art critics at the door.

He has flashes of genuine artistic insight, however. Only last week or so we took him to the theatre. Thanks to the Lyceum for The Venetian Twins. Cracking, lively, fun and just the production to introduce a teen boy to theatre.

We know he enjoyed it because, in his words, it was like 3D, but better, because you don’t need special glasses.