Because Sh*t Happens ...

'I brought this in for Miss Mac' I said sliding the bag across the reception desk.

The school receptionist looked at me, I looked at her and then, for a few moments, we both silently contemplated the bag of gently steaming dog shit on the desk in front of us.

'Tough morning?' she enquired sympathetically?

'Oh like you WOULDN'T believe' I burst out so incredibly grateful for a listening ear.

'First of all there was the accident with the potato farl which was entirely Big D's fault for stealing half my breakfast but then, who knew drop kicking a potato farl could inflict that kind of injury? I mean I know it was frozen and all that but SO much blood'.

'Then, on the way here, Gus decided to take a crap in the open driveway of a house where the family had  (up until that point) appeared to be enjoying a late breakfast and I had to stand there grinning inanely like the Cheshire bloody cat waving poo bags to indicate my willingness to clean up after my disgusting animal while he grunted and groaned tottering about leaving a line of little turds in his wake' .

'And of course, I didn't slept well last night because I couldn't get the vision of that evil goat out of my head and then when I did doze off ....'

I trailed off realising I'd mistaken weary resignation for sympathy.

'Well umm, I'll just take this then shall I and ummm .... leave?' I said and, with enormous dignity I picked up my bag of shit and made my way to the door.

'Oh Mrs Mac' she called sweetly, 'aren't you forgetting something?'

Ah ...

I walked back to the desk and replaced the bag of dog shit with the bag I was still clutching in my other hand containing a clean shirt and underwear for Miss Mac (chocolate milkshake related incident at break time).

I like to think I generally have a fairly GOOD relationship with my children's school (quickly skipping over both the Pimms episode and the time I declared I was dying in a field of daffodils!) and it's beyond me why my children feel the need to constantly stand out from the crowd!

School assemblies and open evenings seem to be the times when they shine the most.

More than 20 years on and the wailing of Big D can still be heard in the corridors completely drowning out Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer as he bawled, 'Don't wanna be a reindeer in tights - wanna wear trousers like a BIG boy!!!'

I've always suspected my children may have hidden musical ability so, when Miss Mac expressed an interest in leaning the guitar one was purchased and lessons were signed up for.

A few weeks later she proudly announced that she and a friend would be taking part in a sharing assembly.

'Umm, ok, but haven't you only had a couple of lessons?' I asked.

'We've been practising LOADS' she smiled.

Clearly she was a child prodigy (something I had long suspected!).

I took my place in the very centre of the front row.

Plink, plink, plink, plink ....

I looked around proudly as they warmed up.

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

Plink, plink, plink plink, plunk!

This went on for some time....

I looked around encouragingly at the other parents.

plink, plink, plunk, plink.

plink, plink, plunk, plink.

I bit the inside of my cheek and dug my nails into my leg.

My eyes started to water.

 I gulped really hard and then ....

I snorted like a pig!!!

plink, plink, plinkety, plunk ...

Would this NEVER end???

Three of the LONGEST hours later (ok, it was probably only about 4 minutes in reality but it FELT like three hours!) they paused and the teacher, god bless her soul, rushed over to the girls and congratulated them totally straight faced on a wonderful performance whilst fortunately the over enthusiastic clapping of the crowd drowned out this proud mothers howls of hysterical mirth.

Unfortunately all this praise went slightly to the head of the other little girl who eagerly announced.

'We know another song!'