Some Things Will Never Change

This morning we were onto a winner.  Time spent preparing last night meant that book bags, PE bags and laptop bags were neatly lined in the hall.  I KNEW where my keys were, which is as rare an occurrence for me as seeing a shooting star, and the children's school uniforms were all clean and ready.  

I sailed through traffic on the way to my meeting, singing along loudly to the radio and revelling in the freedom of finally being let out of the Christmas-shaped cage that was becoming less and less appealing as the school holidays went on (I love watching Elf, eating until I am full from stomach to throat, playing games and drinking port in the middle of the day as much as the next person but seriously, we were all in need of some personal space).  I got to my destination early, caught up with some great friends and colleagues and managed to leave with them the box of festive Fox's biscuits that I had been itching to get out of the kitchen cupboard for fear of tearing them open and adding an inch to my waistline in one sitting.

The children went straight to a friend's house after school which meant there was no demented rush to get back in time and there was peace and quiet in the house when I got home.  Bliss.  I packed the kids' swimming kits, put the bags in the back of my car (oh how prepared, how very organised!), sauntered over to my friend's house to pick up the children, had a nice chat and then actually enjoyed the drive to the pool as the children were, for once, not trying to throttle each other over who sat in which seat.  'I can do this!  I really can do this!' I thought to myself as I led the children to get changed.  And then I realised in all of my blissed out 'I'm so organised' state I had forgotten two things:

1. Velcro is not your friend.  Especially when it comes to your children's school shoes coming into contact with your tights.  Massive ladder, no spare tights and I end up rocking the 'middle aged punk' look.  In a bad way.

2. A swimming hat and a pair of goggles is not enough clothing for the swimming pool - I had forgotten my daughters costume. 

As there was no time to drive all the way home and back again, and you can't (like in PE) do swimming 'in your vest and pants', I let the lovely lady at the swimming pool enjoy watching me vainly search through the contents of two swimming bags on my hands and knees in my snagged tights before giving in and allowing her to sell me a new one.  My daughter was very pleased and I was put back in my rightful place: one of disarray, general confusion and cocking things up.  Ah well, there's always next year....



 Soundtrack: The Way It Is - Bruce Hornsby and the Range