Arrive at school pickup, with Grumpy in tow, and am smacked in the face by the realisation that not only was I not organised enough – nor had brain space enough – to do something about the Father’s Day breaksfast, but also neglected to send offspring to school with some coin for purchase of Father’s Day present from school.
He pulls $10 from his pocket and we wander into the hall to see what is on display. Nothing we want, need or desire. Certainly nothing he covets. Or even enters his brain space, I’m willing to bet.
Kids grab something we don’t want or need, but it’s something, and I feel a slight lift of Guilt from shoulders and can now tick off the “did something to support the school fundraising efforts this year” box on my somewhat overwhelmingly FULL To Do List.
Head home via childcare to pick Chippie up, who, first up is un-locatable as he felt hiding in the bushes would be an awesome way to freak everyone out. Then, due to our being there, demostrates to the carers just what one of his tantrums is like, causing them to leap to attention and over-demonstrate concern for the children, whilst Grumpy and I sit back and said “Ignore him, nothing happened, he didn’t get hurt, he’s fine. He’s just being an arse.”
Then we left.
He carried on, on and off, on the way home. At one point, we determined he wanted out of his stroller, and he actually really did want this, so we let him out. This lasted until I held his hand crossing a major road, resulting in a Going Limp Episode in front of an oncoming tram and we completed the crossing with him hanging by one arm from my clenched fist. Safely on the other side, we made our way up the street and around the corner to home via