Ride to school day, and that Feral Wednesday – where the three boys are supposed to be at various educational facilities at the same time.
Grumpy walked off to the tram, whilst I drove Monkey Boy to a school friends house so he could go to school with that family. Godzill and I walked to kinder.
Argh! School photos tomorrow. Hair in desperate need of cutting.
Mine in particular, but as I’m the one that is usually behind the camera, and won’t be attending school photos tomorrow, my cutting of the hair us once again moved to the bottom of the list.
Drove to school for pickup – had to get to barber for pre-school-photoshoot haircut.
Major dramas because “Ride to School Day” also means “ride home from school even if you need a haircut before school photos the next day”
Also had to get something for dinner, because Doing The Shopping was located only slightly above Mummy To Get Hair Cut on The List.
So the fact that we’d driven (despite being told only 2 days ago that we were only ever to drive to school to pick him up, and to never walk) then became a catalyst for I hate you’s and I’m never getting my hair cut again’s and I don’t care about my school photo’s.
At this point I stopped caring and didn’t push the photo point.
Because at the end of the day, its not me that’s going to look like a knob in my grade one school photo, and not me that everyone will be laughing at at my 21st.
We bypassed the barber (I wanna hair cut!!!!!!!! of course from Godzilla, because we were now no longer going) and headed home to the tune of “I’m not getting my hair cut, I don’t care”
Pulled into the garage, where I pulled the big guns …
“Well, matey, you’re not getting a hair cut. And that’s ok, because if you want to look like a dag in your school photos, that’s entirely up to you.”
… silence …
Subdued “Mummy, I do want to get my hair cut now. I don’t want to look like a dag in my school photos.”
“Whoops, oh dear. Look at that. We’re already home. Bad luck!”