Getting my children to school on time would try the patience of a saint
THERE’S two reasons why I don’t do the school run. The first one is because I’m never cosmetically acceptable at that time in the morning and I don’t want to be responsible for scaring all the children going into school.
‘Aaaaaaaagh! Why does your mammy look like that?’ ‘Eh…..because she’s got no make up on!’
The second reason is, If I’m being totally honest, because I would kill the two children before we even got to the bloody school, so in the interests of safety and keeping them alive, Himself does it.
I will admit I am not a morning person. There I’ve said it. I am grumpy, monosyllabic and unable to string a coherent sentence together first thing in the morning. But
Oh My God. Getting my children to school would try the patience of a feckin saint. And I don’t mean that in a fond way!
The older one takes at least three wake up calls and the threat of violence before he ventures out of his bedroom to get his breakfast. The other one gets up fast enough but then sneaks back into bed after breakfast to catch a few extra minutes on her phone.
Their uniforms are laid out the night before by
Muggins, yet still there is a mad panic looking for various items such as ties, school shoes and PE gear. The Youngest spent ten minutes – TEN FULL
MINUTES looking for the right socks this morning.
By right socks, I don’t mean the right colour. Oh no. I mean the right ‘feel.’
Five pairs were tried on and then abandoned before finding the ‘ right ones’ by which time I was shouting and she was shouting back to not shout at her because I was ‘stressing her out.’
After that it was the usual check list, ‘ did you brush your teeth?’, ‘ Have you brushed your hair?’ ‘ Where are your glasses?’ before the battle over who gets the front seat in the car ensues. ‘Just get into the bloody car before I kill the two of you!’ I bellow. I’m sure I could see the curtains across the road twitching. They were probably ringing Childline.
Amazingly only ten minutes behind schedule, but still late, we make it onto the main road and into heavy school traffic, just as the Youngest shouts ‘ Stop! I forgot my lunch!’ I will not repeat the profanities that came out of my mouth. Suffice to say there were a lot. I dropped them both to school, fit to be tied, then turned around, retrieved the forgotten lunchbox and dropped that off at school too.
Boarding school seems like a really good option right now.
AFTER THAT IT WAS THE USUAL CHECK LIST BEFORE THE BATTLE OVER WHO GETS THE FRONT SEAT IN THE CAR ENSUES