A roadtrip through Scotland
We are driving up the Old Military Road in Craingorms and I spy another house for sale.
“Look!” I excitedly point out. “This one’s for sale, how cool is that?!”.
My teen is not impressed.
“No, mum! No!'“ he says emphatically. He has now taken to saying “No!” before I even get a chance to point out another lovely remote cottage. There were a lot of lovely remote cottages.
We are both half-joking of course. Well, at least I am. He’s dead serious - as much as he does enjoy our trips to Scotland, unlike me, he doesn’t want to move here.
I do. With every fibre of my being. But I know it’s not realistic at this stage - he has his friends and our proximity to London and fast approaching college and potential job opportunities in his chosen career path mean I can’t just upend his life.
“Another 4 or 5 years,” I say, “and I can leave you home to fend for yourself and fuck off to the Highlands on my own for a couple of months.” (Yes I do swear in front of my ki…