How Men Can Morph Into Teenagers.

Even a wife can't compete.

Last night was worthy of writing a term paper. A psychological one. Interesting and incredibly funny watching it from the peripheral.

We'd just ended a lovely evening with my folks. An evening of great company, a BBQ and delectable food. Oh, did I mention the wine? Of course it is a give in our neck of the woods. As is the annual village Easter Fire the night before the great day. Believe me when I tell you that some villagers are so eager to search for Easter eggs that they even stay out all night at this do. Often an inadvertent stumble does the trick of finding treasure hidden behind bushes.

The Bobster, despite his folks being here, wanted to be part of the dawn squad. His argument being that everyone would be asleep anyway so why shouldn't he go. Well, how to get there was the problem. He didn't want to walk and had refused to get out the car earlier when on the way home from the BBQ I'd done a drive past. Clearly, too early in the night for the Bobster.

We were sitting having a cup of tea before bed and I, almost (!) in the fashion of a nagging wife, tried my hardest to dissuade him from taking the moped. A beer or three too many already. But, men are men and tend to be a tad bit on the stubborn side when they smell a chance to escape to join their brethren for a few drinks, a scratch and a moan about the wife.

I tell you, it was classic to see how one or two short sentences from each of his parents changed Bob's mind tout de suite. No argument or muttering in the manner I would have been privy to. His mum used the classic fail-safe of:

" Bob, don't let me sit up and worry about you coming home like I had to when you were a teenager. "

and his dad;

" My boy, I think you should just stay at home. "

Meek as a mouse the Bobster changed into his pyjamas and we all went to bed.

The cherry on top was this morning, when as he woke up he informed me;

" I'm so glad I decided to stay home last night. "

Biggi