Susie Fowler-Watt

EDP Norfolk - - Inside -

This month our colum­nist shares her thoughts on... shar­ing

The time has come: our lit­tle one is about to start school. This is great news in many ways, as he’s a Septem­ber baby and is ready to move on to the next phase of learn­ing. But I will miss our morn­ings to­gether, and I will miss the won­der­ful nurs­ery staff who have nur­tured him so bril­liantly up till now.

There is one ma­jor down­side, which only oc­curred to me a cou­ple of days ago. I was telling a friend how re­lieved I was that, now Lola was 12, there was no moth­ers’ race at Sports Day any more. “So glad that or­deal is fi­nally over!” I laughed. And then I re­mem­bered Hugo.

I have a vivid mem­ory of the first moth­ers’ race I did at Lola’s pri­mary school. I woke up the next day and won­dered why I could hardly walk. It turned out that in my bid not to hu­mil­i­ate my­self and my daugh­ter, I had pulled most of my leg mus­cles.

Of course there are lots of mums who run for plea­sure, and then there are those that have such long legs they don’t even need to break a sweat as they glide across the fin­ish­ing line. There may well be mums at Hugo’s pri­mary school who will be young enough to be my daugh­ter. None of this bodes well for the next seven years.

I con­stantly tell my chil­dren that it’s the tak­ing part that counts. But I just won­der, might there be any age ex­emp­tions on that?

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