Eighteen years old.
Legally a grown up.
Entitled to vote, drink, drive and sign contracts.
My sweet Damien, who cannot keep up with his homework or remember to revise properly for tests and exams, is going to be legally responsible for himself.
I am dreading it!!!
But what I am truly, deeply afraid of, is that once he is 18 years old, his biological father will be allowed to contact him without me objecting. And if Damien wants to, he can look for him- with my help. I have always told him that if he so wishes- I will help him track his father down when he’s 18, but not before. And I have always been afraid that should he go looking for his father, that his father won’t want to meet him and will break my precious boy’s heart…
And I am afraid of what his father will say to him i.t.o. what happened between us when we split up. I have always been as honest with my knucklehead as I thought he could handle and understand. Trying at the same time not to put his father on a pedestal, nor to make him into the image of evil incarnate. Its a REALLY fine line…
I know we probably remember things differently- I can only hope I have told my knucklehead enough that he will not simply take as gospel whatever his father and paternal family may say.
Onto nicer topics.
We’re having a bring and braai on Saturday with friends and family, and when he goes back to school after the holidays he’ll have a party with his school friends. On Saturday everyone will be wearing black, since that’s his thing right now, and we’ll just be taking it easy and letting him enjoy being “allowed” to drink with us.
I had to giggle though. I’ve always been really strict on age restrictions and rules and the like, and earlier this week he asked me if he’d be allowed to drink at his party on Saturday since he’s techinically only allowed to drink on Sunday. I was tempted to say no, to let him stew a little, but I said yes, and he repled with his standard “Cool”, but with a little smile as well.
Wish me luck, bunnies!