My baby sister was born on Valentine’s Day in 1988. As if being born on chocs-and-roses day wasn’t a blessing enough, she’s got me for a brother (and four others, just to make things interesting for any potential suitors out thurr). The scary part is, my baby sister is writing her final A-Level exam tomorrow.
After that, she’s free. Free. As in, a statistic, one of the 75%, an unemployed individual, a member of population at large, the Great Unwashed. She’s also over eighteen, out of school, and to all intents and purposes, an adult. My baby sister, my sweet little innocent, my conscience, my perfect little angel, has Come of Age.
Now, that’s some scary shit, y’all. Firstly, I know how tough it is in this environment, and for a school-leaver faced with ZBC’s “challenges” diving into real life must be doubly scary (yes, ‘doubly’ is a fucking word). The second consideration is this; if my baby sister is out of school, I can’t be that young anymore, can I? I mean, isn’t it time to face the music and, you know…grow up?
Nah. I’m a spring chicken. School-leavers? Bring ’em on, I may just invite her to stay for a coupla weeks so I can meet her cute little school-leaver friends, freshen my portfolio a lil’ bit, you know how we do.
Okay, a little too far.