My mum’s perception of England before we came here was that - every black teenager got stabbed to death. I suppose her fears were a little bit justified considering the spate of knife attacks in london at that time.
We moved to one of the safest areas in England and she still believed this.
One time, I went to play rugby for the school and I forgot to tell her. At the end of the games, my teacher came up to me and was like… “your mum has been trying to get a hold of you, i think you should ring her”
You know how many missed calls I got - 27. 27 missed calls in less than 90 minutes. It was still daylight! It was summer, and the sun was still out.
I got home and found a family friend in the kitchen, my sister told me he had been driving all over town looking for me and she had just rang the police! And I burst out laughing, then quickly stifled it when I saw tears in my mum’s eyes. She was sitting down and just glared at me. Then wouldn’t talk to me the entire day.
It makes me LOL now as much as it made me then.
I have a mother who cares (too much) Thank God for mother though.