No event is complete without lots of these...
Big Son is getting a prize at his Senior Prizegiving this week. He thinks it’s either the History Prize. Or the award for First in his class. Or both. I said it might be for ‘The Boy Who looks in the mirror the mostest.’ Or, ‘The Boy who has the nastiest, messiest bedroom BUT still manages to be lauded as best dressed among all his peers.’ Or ‘The Boy who takes an hour to wash the dishes because he’s listening to his iPod and dancing at the same time.’ He rolled his eyes and said, ‘No Mum , whatever!’
We are very proud of Big Son, especially considering that we only moved to New Zealand ten months ago and school has been one big journey of new things, new people, new subjects and more. I’m excited and I may have gotten a little carried away…
“I’m so proud of you son. You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to make you some flower leis to put on you when you get your prize.”
Look of horror. “No mum, you can’t do that.”
“Because nobody else’s parents do that.”
“How do you know? This is your first ever prizegiving in New Zealand. Besides, who cares what other parents do?”
” I do.” He furiously texts his friends. Then triumphant. “See my friend David said nobody does that at prizegiving. You can’t.”
“Excuse me? This is a tradition. A cultural and a family tradition. I always make you a flower lei when you get an award at prizegiving. I don’t care if nobody else does it. I’m going to.Is David getting a prize?”
“Good, then I’ll make him a flower lei too. And that beautiful girlfriend of yours who’s singing a solo at prizegiving? I’m going to make her a flower lei too.”
Big Son looks like he’s going to throw up. Faint. Run away from home. Doesn’t he know me by now? Never tell a
psycho mother that she CAN”T do something just because ‘nobody else’s mum does that.’ I’m on a roll “And while I’m at it, I might make one for the Principal. And your teacher. That way we’re sharing the Samoan cultural love, giving everyone a taste of Pacific prizegiving traditions AND that way, you won’t be the only one. And when I come up on the stage, I might sing a song, CHOO HOO! Do a little siva dancing. Kiss you on both cheeks. Oh it’s going to be so much fun…”
Big Son gives up trying to change my mind and skulks off to his
pit of darkness bedroom. Leaving me chuckling at my own deviousness.
And then I walk outside into my NZ backyard. Sh**. I forgot. Unlike back home in Samoa, we now have a garden with not a single flowering bush or tree. Just weeds and tangles as far as the eye can see. Where am I going to get buckets of flowers from anyway? I don’t have trillions to waste buying them from the florist. And I hate lolly leis. They are sooo plastic, not to mention unhealthy…
Oh well. I can be enterprising and Martha-Stewart creative. Big Son may end up having leis made of grass. He’s reeeally going to make a lasting impression at prizegiving.