Youtube convention

It’s back to work with a bump, although I’ve been checking emails the whole time I was on holiday. I must admit that I was still in holiday mode until the last drop of the weekend had passed despite my partner being in a pit of despond from first thing Sunday morning at the thought of the great return. I eked it out in part because daughter one was at a Youtube convention until fairly late. I was going to make her come home early due to her non-communication the day before, but I relented after reading about how epic it was in the newspapers and thinking she could pick me up some tips for work. I may employ her as my digital strategist in the near future, although I fear she may negotiate a fairly good deal for herself. Therefore the team and I headed for Westfield shopping centre [where else?] on Sunday night to pick her up from the tube. She was with a friend, but I had visions of impending disaster. I was due to go and pick her up on my own, but, naturally, everyone small wanted to come too, despite me saying that there would be no treats whatsoever en route.

Everyone was very excited to see Westfield at night, apart from the Boots store which daughter two still will not go near after an overly attentive assistant told her off for eying the makeup section too closely. I fear Boots Westfield may have lost a customer for life and that particular customer is a big fan of toiletries. She has a burgeoning collection of Tesco value hair products in her room.

Eventually, daughter one sauntered out of the tube in very cool fashion dressed in black. She had met a one-named Youtuber man with a big eyebrow, she had been to lots of workshops and seen Youtube bands. I had thought it was all people talking about makeup and the like, given daughter three spends hours on Youtube just doing her hair, but daughter one had apparently chosen to attend a session on gay rights and another on why it’s a good idea to go to university. And yet she usually refuses point blank to come to any similar type events I am involved with. Huh! I have told daughters two and three to set up their own Youtube channel and just turn the camera on their normal chats. It’s entertainment gold, particularly if only son is bopping about in the background. Last night I had locked myself in the toilet to get some peace. He was outside on the stairs. “I’m just needing you to come out, mummy, because I’m staring into the dark and it’s scaring me.” All the lights were on bar in my room. “Don’t stare at the dark then. Look at the light bits,” I think I muttered. “But I can still feel the dark, mum,” he said. Hmmm.

Anyway, we got in the car and headed out of the Olympic area, which was all lit up and sparkly. Daughter two, who is very impressed by all that daughter one does, was keen to get daughter one to show an interest in her. This is her life’s work. She started recounting the entire plot of Poseidon, which we had watched on Saturday night. Daughter two was totally glued to the film and particularly upset when the dad died at the end. Daughter one showed absolutely no interest and indeed told daughter two to shut up because she was spoiling the film should she deign to watch it in the future. Daughter two looked crushed.

After getting home we had a long talk about sibling relations. The same talk I think we have had 1,001 times. One day it may sink in and they may all end up going to a Youtube convention with arms linked, singing.

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• Mum On The Run