I am not a violent woman. For goodness sake, I spent this afternoon sitting on the sofa knitting tiny mice and watching Wimbledon. And then I baked fairy cakes with Granddaughter Number One after watching her doing her ballet 'n' tap class. And now I am blogging to an old episode of 'Terry and June.' The actions of a pacifist, wouldn't you say?
But beneath this calm and benign Granny exterior there lies the coiled spring of an increasingly angry mum, who is on the cusp of leaping into a fray to defend one of her cubs.
Now, I don't really believe that parents should interfere with the lives of their adult children especially when their next birthdays are numbers 29 and 27. I have watched enough episodes of Jeremy Kyle to know that that kind of behaviour NEVER ends well. I don't want to be reduced to public slanging matches that are heavy on the cliches, shouting things like, 'You ain't good enough to lick the dirt off my daughter's shoes, you bitch,' (sorry about that - it sort of slipped out. Most cathartic and very unlike me but an indication nonetheless of how I feel about a situation one of my cubs is in at the mo.)
And I shan't be involved in any bitch (oops! There I go again!) slapping, or hair pulling or eye poking either. Not that I couldn't, you understand. I am not a flimsy person. I could defend myself if need be. But it is all very undignified, isn't it? And impolite. Rude. Aggressive. Unnecessary. A bit like, oh I don't know, a middle aged woman running an office and constantly picking on someone younger than her and making them cry, just to pluck a random example out of the air...
I think adult children should be allowed to fight their own battles. If you do your job as a parent then they should be able to because you will have raised them as calm, fair, independent, reasonable and polite human beings. Not that I wouldn't be there to lend a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on, or tea and cake - the panacea of all ills - when things get a bit too much as they sometimes do because life is life. I can offer sage advice,too. Like 'Don't be involved with any one to one meetings with this bitter harridan,' and 'Make sure you log any incidents and build up evidence in case you need to take her to a tribunal for harrassment, workplace bullying and stress.' And today, 'Ring me the moment she starts and I'll come over and she can pick on someone her own size/ age/ maturity,' because after the latest incident I am starting to feel abit testy. Except I am a) more mature than her because I know how to behave in a workplace setting and b) I am a greater intellectual giant and would beat her hands down in a battle of wit and words.
I guess you can't help responding to a baser instinct in these situations. You try to bite your tongue, keep your own counsel, mind your own business but when you love your cubs, who are fine and quite marvellous adults in their own right, the urge to rip the head off anyone who threatens their happiness and well being can, on occasion, ripple beneath the surface of otherwise 99.9% sane behaviour.
On lighter notes, I got midged 3 times whilst gardening the other day but the bites haven't swollen even half as much as they would normally do, the sun is shining, the fairy cakes were marvellous and all is well in cat 'n' chicken land.
And that is all I have to say on workplace bullying...except it might not be if she doesn't...BACK OFF (bitch!) Oops...soz...