Teenwolf – God he is hilarious! So he thinks.

Similar to yer hairy rugby player

The dread in the stomach as the rugby season looms. I can’t help it. I am a human being with a boy who is full of testosterone and loves his rugby. The pre-season training has started. I dropped him yesterday at the rugby ground and despite having known the team for years I didn’t recognise them. They have grown like weeds over the summer. Some of them out the way, some of them up the way and what about the hair! Head, face, arms, legs – aye the male of the species is, without a shadow of a doubt, a little further back down the food chain.

So off he strode into into the pack. I took the opportunity to try and rebalance my bad mothering skills by going to Morrisons to get some food to fill the belly of the growing teenwolf and my own belly which is partial to these new offers for 2 Magnum boxes for the price of 1, anyway I digress.

Not ideal way to behave at the checkout

I grabbed the necessary and 10 minutes later I am at the checkout and my phone rings. The name displayed is Louis aka teenwolf. I answer it immediately. ‘Hi Mum, I’ve broken my leg’. OH MY GOD I squeal causing the woman behind me in the queue to drop her broccoli. ‘Mum’ said the voice, ‘I’m just joking’. Livid and with a heart rate hovering near death I shrieked ‘that’s not bloody funny I’m coming to get you now!’

As I drove with a puce face and balled up fists, not easy when clutching a steering wheel, round to the rugby ground there he sat at the side of the road, grinning. As soon as we got eye contact I began to grin as well as he dragged his perfectly good leg over the road to the car. Loping into the passenger seat lucky for him he said ‘sorry mum’.

Gratuitous? Yes. Nice though.

Ok I said but never again – not with rugby, it is a contact sport and these thing do happen.
And by the way I was going to make you walk home but you can carry all my shopping upstairs, put it away and then make me a cup of tea. One look at me and he knew I wasn’t joking. You have to hit them where it hurts – domestic duty – a winner every time.

Oh the reason he was phoning me 10 minutes after being dropped off? Training from 10 to 12. He thought 11.50am but it was of course 10am – 12. Aye boys.

Author: AlisonsDiary

Writer & broadcaster.