Day 75. The wrong direction.

Today was a really odd day; a 400 mile round trip to Manchester, on a precious Saturday, to take Bea to a One Direction gig. We met up with my best friend from 6th form and her niece, how naive we were to think that we'd get a chance to catch up while the girls had a sing and a dance: it was deafening. The group of girls behind us screamed so loudly I had to put tissue in my ears at one point, they were bleeding (figuratively speaking but borderline literally).

However that's not why it was odd. I have blogged before about the pace at which Bea is growing up and how I wish I could just slow it down a little. Today we hit the autobahn. I watched as my 8 year old was swept along with the atmosphere. As she sang, screamed and danced her way through 2 hours of songs - I knew 4 of them - she seemed unable to control herself. It was primal. Sometimes when she danced there seemed to be a different song playing in her head and I was thankful when she commented that she thought it was weird to see girls crying so much they had mascara running down their cheeks - yep, if you're gonna bag yourself a 1D boy that's how to do it....

The little girl I'm more familiar with returned when we had a bite to eat in Harvey Nicks afterwards (a reward to me for surviving the experience) as she giggled over photos of the boys and messed about with her 1D glow stick. But there's no escaping what I'd seen. There it was. A glimpse into the future.

To all other Mums of primary girls: hold on tight, it's going to be one hell of a ride.