YOUNG & GIFTED

Kate’s thoughtful teen pulls out all the shocks

If you have teens, you’ll know they are full of surprises. Some would argue the word “shocks” is more appropriate. And if you don’t have teenagers yet, you have been warned.

I thought my quota of random surprises had been filled, but I was wrong. About a month before Christmas, my eldest son said he was really excited about the gift he was getting me.

“Please don’t spend your money on us,” I told him. “Just a card is plenty, babe.”

But he was having none of it. “No, Mum, he replied. “I’ve been thinking about this for ages and it’s awesome. I really want to get it.”

“Please Jax,” I tried to reason. “I don’t want anything.”

“It’s not a ‘thing’ per se,” he said cryptically. “It’s something for you, though.”

I was stumped. And then it dawned on me – he must be donating to a charity. One of those “giving” gifts.

I asked no more questions. Some suspicious behaviour then followed. He vanished more than usual. He was giving me strange looks.

Then Christmas morning rolled around. As we all sat in our PJs opening pressies, I was aware my eldest son had not yet surfaced from his bedroom. I wasn’t surprised. Given how late he’d been out the night before, I assumed he’d be asleep a while longer.

But as we began to make breakfast, he walked up the stairs wearing his standard basketball singlet and shorts, with one hand protectively covering his bare right shoulder.

“Mum,” he began. “You’re like my angel. You’re so good to me and you’ve always been there for me ...”

As he was speaking, his hand slipped off his shoulder. “Jackson!” screamed my daughter, who was standing right beside him. “What have you done?!”

“Oh,” he shrugged. “I hadn’t finished my speech Moo, I was getting to that. So this is your Christmas present, Mum!”

He pointed to his shoulder where, next to his first tattoo, was a brand-new second one. A rather large one – three letters surrounded by angel wings and a halo, with rays of light coming off them. The letters were my initials, KJH.

“Oh, my God, Jackson!” I squealed. “When? How? Why?” I started blurting out all my questions.

Turns out he’d saved up, booked a tattoo session without my knowledge, had it done and hidden it under T-shirts and hoodies up until now. “You’re here with me forever, Mum,” he said patting his arm. I was overwhelmed. My husband, not so much. “You realise it’s there forever, eh, mate?” was his response. “I mean, it’s there for life.”

“Yep,” my son replied. “I thought about it and I know I want it there and I’m really happy I got it.”

I beamed with pride, “That’s really sweet, Jax.”

“Yep,” he replied, “I’m getting a whole sleeve.”

And just like that, shock number two was in.