World Book Day today. For reasons best known to themselves the Infant and junior schools celebrated a day early. Wonder what kind of lesson is that?
So costume drama was added to yesterday's morning tasks. The Shoemaker's Elf's sadness at wearing wellies for the rain took longer than the time I'd allocated (none). Also failed to factor in time for making-up sensible q's for the English teacher, praying for the only pair of sharp scissors in the house to reveal their whereabouts, and how much longer it takes to make sandwiches with frozen bread, never mind costume alterations with a blunt instrument. Resisted temptation to do indescribable damage to something, anything, with same.
With no obvious temperatures or paleness I thought the kid's unwell moans were worries. Worries that everyone else will be in uniform because you got the wrong date. Easy to understand when World Book Day wasn't for another 24 hours. En-route we spotted a dinosaur, a cowboy, a fair number of fairies and princesses and more Harry Potter's than we cared to count. Phew. Though tempted to crawl back to bed I half-heartedly attacked the breakfast war zone and went to work.
Accidental turn of mobile to silent meant I missed the call from the junior medical room about my boy. Cardinal Sin No 2: he told them he'd told me. When I eventually called he'd got bored and gone for lunch. Can't have been that ill? Gave a solemn promise to Matron that I'd answer my phone and collect him should he show up in 'medical' again. Two minutes later I answered their call and made a joke about spelling test avoidance. But is was now the little-one was poorly. How many black marks could I get in one morning?
Driving in the driving rain I pondered the positive: we could miss swimming. A relief as the secondary school parent's night meant I had no slot in which to cook and feed the lids. As I tried to move the shoemaker's elf she vomited again. I didn't know I was on bowl patrol so only had my hand to hand. Finding the positive, again, it was a good thing I couldn't find my rings this morning, thereby saving time scrubbing sick out of the stones with a toothbrush.
Felt slightly surreal carrying a vomiting elf to car. Grabbed gorgeous boy as well considering chances of leaving house again any time soon were looking slim.
Much as I moan about the little one's live-wire nature (even Supersis looks for the off-switch), it's horrible to see her silently slumped with a glum face.Thank god He-who-must-be-adored tuned into the tone of my voice and abandoned saving London to save us. Wished he hadn't bothered when he walked in doing his bad Cheery Bob impression.
He still hasn't smoked though. He did parent's evening whilst I did bowl patrol in quarantine. Highly impressed that He took notes. He said he has previous experience of my interrogation techniques. He continued in hero mode whilst I wore the little one round my neck like an accessory. Bowl patrol only lasted eight hours.
Today the little one is on the mend. And the chat is back. Bestmumchum turned up with a take-away frothy knowing I was stuck indoors going stir crazy.
Actually quite busy in-between wearing the little one and reclaiming the ground floor from small plastic objects, stains and bugs. Considering buying shares in disinfectant manufacturer.
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