My stepmother, Sharon, drives me up the wall. In short, she behaves as though she’s my sister, but a sister who’s overly invested in ensuring I reach my potential. Dad just thinks it’s endearing, which doesn’t help matters. I wish someone would just acknowledge that it’s not normal to be hassling one’s stepdaughter about whether she’s frozen her eggs yet by commenting with strings of fried egg emojis on social media app Instant Gran.
Fanciful notions of being a grandmother aside, I get that Sharon’s just trying to be supportive, and I do appreciate that. She’s no evil stepmother, but she does need to stop interfering with things. Like, I told her and dad that I was starting to explore the property market, and since then she’s been texting me daily tips on conveyancing. Near Collingwood, according to Sharon, there are some real duds of apartments, so I need to be careful. Well, duh. I’m just not at that point yet, Sharon.
As well as jumping the gun on organising conveyancing services, she’s also been telling all her friends and colleagues that I’m buying property. Given that I only downloaded the real estate app the other day and have barely glanced at it since then, I think it’s fair to say that she’s exaggerating. She even told her manicurist, who also happens to be my manicurist, and as a result I had to listen to her going on about getting the right conveyancer as well. What is it with these people?
Maybe they have some wisdom to impart, and I’m open to hearing it. I just wish they’d do it in a way that’s a bit less presumptuous and invasive. For example, they could ask me about where I’m at in the process and what steps I’m planning to take, and go from there. They could also not bandy it about all over town – I’d like a bit of space around it, thanks.
Next thing I’ll be receiving strings of house emojis from Sharon’s favourite barista.