Me. This morning.
The Chums fought and whinged and mithered their way through this morning. It wasn’t so much parenting, as herding wild animals. They couldn’t be in the same room at the same time. The Pie managed to clobber the Boy painfully with my hairbrush, and The Boy shoved her over. She had a full on rant at him because (get this) he’d put the milk back in the fridge WRONG. He had a full on rant at me because he couldn’t find a clean school shirt. ‘Can’t find’ in Boy speak means ‘Can’t be bothered to look’, so you can imagine how delighted I was to open his drawer and find three of them staring up at me.
Then to add injury to insult, not only was I the epitome of Screechy Fishwife Woman, but I also fell over on the damp grass and have hurt my side, so I was Screechy Fishwife with Added Tears.
And the worst part is I couldn’t even bring myself to kiss The Chums goodbye at school, which I obviously regretted as soon as I’d walked away. But of course by the time I turned back to catch them, they’d both gone into the classroom.
Would school laugh if I phoned and asked them to tell my children that I love them?