School is back. Kinder is not.
Given we’d all pretty much missed a week of the school hols due to sickness, it kinda sprung up on us.
And still feeling crappy, so not in mood to be organised. Or making lunches.
Godzilla chucked tanty because he wanted to go to kinder. Tried explaining. No point; attempting emplanation to tantrumy 4 year old is somewhat more difficult than stapling yogurt to a wall.
Managed to get to school five minutes late. Teacher commented, asking if I’d forgotten (when have I ever been late in my life??!!) so informed her that I had two children who would not listen.
She retorted with “well, I have a classroom full of kid that don’t listen”
So I laughed at her. Well, as best I could with my gravelly voice and sore throat.
Head home, trying to work out how I can entertain Godzilla whilst catching up on a bucketload of work. Godzilla decided he would much prefer the company of Auntie Thomas the Tank Engine DVD, so that solved that problem.
(although not the problem of my Guilt)
Picked Monkey Boy up and head off to gymnastics, where Godzila fell asleep as we got to the corner of the street the gym is in.
Cuddled him on my lap in the “viewing room” – ie a broom cupboard with windows located at approximately ceiling height – when he pipes up with “look at that one Mummy”
“Look at what one?”
“Look at that one, Mummy” he says again (yes a logical answer to my query) pointing towards a ceiling-heighted window with his little finger. His thumb was stuck in his mouth, making it difficult to point with his pointy finger.
“Which one,” I ask, thinking there was some fabulous new piece of equipment. All I could see what some kids on the trampolines. “What are you talking about?”
“Look at that one, Mummy” he says, getting louder, because, obviously I am an idiot.
“What? What one what?”
“That one Mummy. Its a fat one”
Ah, yes, I had noticed the chubby little girl on the trampoline. I hadn’t noticed that he had noticed.
I then noticed a very glamerous, yummy mummy, wtih manicured nails and styled hair, glaring at me. Oh, and she was neatly dressed and didn’t have any Vegemite on her at all.
I don’t know why her daggers were aimed at me.
Its not like I said it!
And she was fat.
And lucky I can pretend that I have no idea what Godzilla is talking about.