I didn't see this day coming. I saw the arguments, the talking back, the defiance of pre-teen girls. I knew we'd fight about doing chores and why I had said no to their sleeping over with so and so. I thought I had to be prepared with answers and the platitudes for those occasions they would come to me in tears, overcome with disappointment, overwhelmed by the cruelty of the world. I was prepared to be uncool, with the generational uncoolness of being a middle-aged, somewhat over-the-hill mother. At least we were on a level playing field.

Until we walked out the Steiners' house today and Izzy said, "Mum, you're embarrassing."

Ouch!! Wait a minute! I've come around to accepting the fact that my kids will never think of me as young and lithe. I don't even mind that they think I'm mean. I can live with being out of touch. But an embarrassment? Someone just shoot me now.

And with that, you realise that the gains you thought you had made since you were that awkward teenager were fallacious. I was embarrassed then and I had good reason. So I really do rub people up the wrong way. I do laugh in that weird braying way that my mother used to criticise me for. My friends really are looking at me and thinking, god, she's loud. So, maybe it's not Alex who needs the social etiquette class after all but me.