Farewell Etiquette

Apparently I’m so uncool Master Eight doesn’t even want to be seen with me inside the school grounds anymore.

Long gone are the days when he’d happily give me a kiss and cuddle goodbye outside his class. This evolved into a sheepish smile at age six, and then me chasing him and his giggling friends across the field, arms outstretched, at age seven.

It was fun embarrassing him then because he didn’t mind too much.

But this year it’s gone from requesting I give him a kiss and cuddle inside the car at school drop off to this morning’s: “Mum, can you say goodbye to me now?”

“But we haven’t even left home yet!”

“I know,” he said leaning over the hand brake to give me a hug while we were still parked inside the garage.

“Mum can I be second?” piped up Master Five from the back as we went up the drive.

This wasn’t because he finds me embarrassing – I don’t think the thought has crossed his mind yet – but because it’s a race to get into school.

“No, you will be third because you have to get out your sister’s side and you are going to be a gentleman and wait for her to get out first,” I replied.

 Every morning we have this trouble. With Miss Five seated closest to the footpath – the side they both need to get out - Master Five, always chaffing at the bit to race to class, pushes past while his sister is still trying to pull her bag out. This causes a tangle of limbs, bag straps and sibling abuse while I stand nearby giving Master Five a dressing down about manners.

By the time he lurches out of the car he’s in a fouler and doesn’t want a kiss and cuddle anymore, Miss Five is usually upset and Master Eight has already slunk off.

So this morning I began to lecture him about being a gentleman.

“You’re going to find it really hard to get a girlfriend one day if you don’t brush up on your manners and become a gentleman,” I said.

“I don’t want a girlfriend!” he declared while his siblings cracked up.

“You will one day – trust me. And so will your brother,” I added, because he was by now laughing hysterically at his brother’s expense.

But it was too late – Master Five had dissolved into tears. Apparently the thought of having a girlfriend – even as an adult – was unbearable.

I decided to save the lecture about opening doors and learning to dance equalling being a ‘chic magnet’, for another day when they were older and when it wasn’t directed at their retreating backs.

Because, for now, they were too intent on rudely tripping over each other to get into school.