Getting what you want, and other rites of passage

It was a simple moment, nothing spectacular. Just an evening conversation between father and son.
Michael said, “I think I’d like to go to the Download Festival. I need to see Stone Sour live. The okes are making such killer music right now. They’re probably the best in the business at the moment.”
“Mmm. Good band, hey,” said his dad Angus, without looking up from his copy of The Star. ‘Tow truckers bribe cops’ bellowed the ten-column headline. The evening edition hadn’t changed much from the morning.
“Ja, great band,” continued Michael. “The best.”
Meanwhile, in the Grayston Drive Woolworths Food outlet, Angus’s wife Shelly was doing the shopping with their other son Shaun.
The Super M chocolate milks were in the dairy aisle right next to the full-cream litre bottles.
“C’n’ive one of these, Ma?”
“No, my boy. You’ve already got a juice and a two-litre Coke. Put it back, Shaunie!”
“Aw, Ma-a! You never let me get anything. I don’t care, I’ll get it with my own money. I don’t need you!”
And with that, Shaun flung the Super M into the shopping basket with an impetuous flick of his 14-year-old wrist.
“Stop shouting, Shaun!”
Meanwhile, back in the family TV room in greater Morningside, Michael was drifting slowly but surely towards his moment of truth.
“Ja, it’s just that if I want the band to succeed, I’ve got to see what the best guys in the world are doing, so we can be world class…”
“Mmm…” responded his father. “Where’s this festival?”
“The UK. It’s in June.”
“Oh. Then you better start saving,” continued Angus, now focused on a page three piece about a radio news editor who’d been stabbed at his home in Melville. “I’m sure those air tickets won’t be cheap.”
“No,” Michael tried again. “That’s the thing, hey.”
Back in Woolies, Shelly and Shaun were at the tills already. Shaun had secured his Super M, and was going for a final Lunch Bar.
“Come on, Ma. You can take it out of my pocket money.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” snapped Shelley, throwing the chocolate into the pile of groceries the cashier was busily swiping. By this time Shaun had begun wandering towards the exit. She clearly wouldn’t be getting any help with the bags.
She took a deep breath. Shoo. Another ten years and this one would be off their hands too.
Michael, meanwhile, a decade older than his junior sibling, was beginning to see that crossroads approaching at a scary rate.
“Aw, come on, Dad,” he tried forlornly, desperately. This in a tone Angus hadn’t been subjected to since the notorious mountain-bike incident of 1999. It was time to put down the paper.
“Look, Michael,” he began. “You’re 25. If you want to be a full-time musician, you’re going to have to start funding it yourself. I’m afraid you’ve already had the last of your pocket money.
“Ag, Dad,” Michael adopted a more grown-up tone. “I’m not earning. How do you expect me to pay for…”
“That’s exactly it, my boy. I think you’re starting to get it. It’s time to find a job. You’ve tried three different degrees, I’ve been buying you band equipment since Grade 10. You’ve never paid us a day’s rent in your life…”
“Rent?” Michael was flabbergasted. “But you’re my parents…”
“We are your parents,” replied Angus, a little too smugly. “And as your parent, it’s my duty to inform you that you’re now officially grown up. No more hand-outs. As from now, you’re off the payroll.
He stood up from the couch and left the room with an air of finality. He had to try not to do it with too much of a spring in his step. It just felt so good to finally say it. He walked to the drinks cabinet and fixed himself a scotch. The house was dead silent.
One down and one to go, thought Angus.
In the family X5 on the way back from the shops, things were equally quiet. Michael wasn’t allowed his Lunch Bar until after supper.
Shelly took another of her deep breaths. She wondered if Angus had had that talk with Michael yet.
In the passenger seat Shaun plugged his earphones in and cranked Stone Sour at a level he knew would be audible to his mom. Punishment for her being so unfair.
She just kept her eyes on the road and repeated her silent mantra.
One down and one to go.