As my youngest child progressed through his teens, I became quite excited. I reckoned that, once he reached his 18th birthday, I had fulfilled my contract. Anything after that was overtime. I could be irresponsible, decadent – hell, I could even die if it came to it, because I’d done the job I started 28 years before.
When he reached his birthday, I was too busy to be frivolous, so I set my sights on my own 50th. I spent some time considering a fresh vice to take up. I considered smoking – I had never been a smoker. Then I got a nasty chest infection and actually felt so ill that I went to the doctor about it. He thought I was developing asthma at first, as I was wheezing so much. It put me right off the Evil Weed.
I’ve never been interested in illegal weeds either. And I already drank quite as much as was good for me. Furthermore, I was a respectable married woman in a small town, with a husband I still actually rather fancied.
I’m not much of a gambler. I don’t see the point. I do take a keen pleasure in poker, as a matter of fact, and the boys and I often used to play, but we had a pot of small change and, at the end of the evening, all the coins were swept back in, because we didn’t care who won, except in the confines of the game itself. And I haven’t had anyone to play with for a long time – I’ve no interest in the online stuff.
So I swore quite a lot, in a decorous manner, and listened to loud music, though at quite a low volume of course, as one wouldn’t want to be inconsiderate, or injure the old eardrums. Vice lite, you might say.
And now I have gone from sedate to so dull I’m even boring myself. So I need a vice. Please come up with an idea or two.