In a month I will become the parent of a teenager as my eldest child reaches that terrifying milestone.
If it feels exciting to her, it is frankly baffling for me. For one thing, it seems no time at all that she was dancing around in princess dresses as a Frozen-obsessed toddler. For another, I spend most of my time feeling no different from when I was 28 – bad knee notwithstanding – so the idea that I am of a suitable age to have a teenager in my care feels plain wrong.
Anyhow, time waits for nobody. And the world is lying in wait for my children, whether I like it or not. What it has in store for them feels moderately bleak at present.
Subscribe to Independent Premium to bookmark this article
Want to bookmark your favourite articles and stories to read or reference later? Start your Independent Premium subscription today.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies