He shouts ‘yo’ in the hallway, by way of hello and I follow him out of the bathroom to the front door to see younger son walk out and grab his scooter to ride to school. Still, always a moment.
The announcement of his departure was a step forward. We rang the bell a few times because it became more and more commonplace that the men went out the door without a boo or bah.
Admittedly, since they have a car and scooter driver’s license and corresponding rolling stock is available, they can come and go as they please, but we were brought up with the idea that someone should report it when he or she leaves.
Sometimes we were sitting in the garden on a Sunday afternoon and suddenly a child drove up the road from the driveway, to work or something else and my wife and I looked at each other like: okay…
Or that I asked her if the eldest had already gone to training and she thought not, went to look in the bedroom and came back into the living room with a: ,,Yes, he’s gone anyway.”
I stand in front of the youngest who is standing in the door with his helmet on and I ask as always: ,,Are you being a little careful?”
,,No.”
To which I inquire whether he has refueled yet. If the answer is a sighing “of course,” I argue that my question isn’t so crazy.
“You forgot about it once and then I quickly filled the tank for you from the jerry can for the lawnmower.”
,,You are really unbelievable”, he exclaims, ,,I can’t make one mistake either.”
“That’s right,” I respond, “that’s how we are, parents.”