Despite being in my forties the clocks going forward have thrown me completely off kilter, meaning that this morning we were in a horrific rush for ‘ballet’ (running about in an Elsa dress to iPod-piano-music) and I found myself in the drive at five-to-class-time, in complete headless chicken mode, shrieking at a bawling toddler to ‘get into the fudging car!!!’.
Cue my lovely ancient neighbour peering through the hedge enquiring ‘is everything alright dear?’ … ‘yes Joan I’m just a TERRIBLE PARENT!!!’ I spat back as I flung said toddler into the car and sped out the drive like a crazy-haired, mad-eyed drag racer…
‘I’ve scared Joan I think’ I said to Flora as we sat at the lights and calm descended upon us
‘Did you have on a dinosaur costume?’ she replied…
😐
**postscript… this afternoon I went to apologise to said lovely neighbour (you’ll be pleased to know) then took Flora to the shop to get a magazine to atone for my rage whence Rufus, who I was carrying, decided to projectile vomit into my face and over himself, me and the floor in a exorcist-esque cascade of milk.
And I was wearing flip flops.
Karma.
Wine for tea tonight.
bibs & nibs 