Not delivered and delivered

One of the greatest lesson’s I’ve learnt, especially as a Mum, is to expect Murphy’s Law … if something can go wrong, it will go wrong.

I chose to walk to school in the morning, a bit of fresh air, getting the blood moving and tantrums. Sent Grumpy to the post office to collect the last of the packages for tonight’s Bad Mother’s Club launch and brisky return home to discover a bag of chocolates at the door. Sadly, not for me, but for guests tonight.

Grumpy returns, packageless and thus commences the first of the day’s dilemmas, which I handle with aplomb. And even avoid devouring delicious chocolates, despite their olfactory taunting of me from beside me on the desk.

An e-mailing and printing frenzy ensues – after first retrieving

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