My friend offered to make tea for my kids today after school. She knows I'm struggling at the moment. How nice is that?
'Lovely', I said.
We arrived, all three on the doorstep at about 3.45. She has a son who's the same age as Ed and a daughter a couple of years older. She also has a grown-up son who's away at uni - major respect and awed envy at having managed to raise a child to adulthood. Ed and her son haven't met for a while as they go to different schools, but they soon bonded over the Wii (the object of Ed's greatest desire as we don't have one, although how long we'll be able to hold out is anyone's guess). Martha was in deep awe and wonder at her 8 year-old daughter who was sufficiently glamorous and worldly to induce hero-worship to a major degree. Martha had brought her new colouring book and they coloured together lying on their fronts on the floor, Martha maintaining a respectful silence.
And Hattie? She played, wriggled, watched the fish, ate the tea and inexplicably projectile vomited in the way that she never has done before, all over herself, me and the floor! I hasten to add that the tea was innocuous fishfingers, pizza, chips and peas. We're not talking fricassee of chicken livers (???). My friend was lovely about it of course but really!
There was an unpleasant aroma around me on the way home, while Hattie sported a fetching outfit found at the bottom of the changing bag I'd luckily brought with me -an outfit clearly packed in the summer when she was approximately 2 feet shorter than she is now.
'Never a dull moment', I laughed to my friend as we slid out of the door......
'Come again', she said.
But you know what - I actually think she meant it.
I'll bring my own collapsible mop and disinfectant in the changing bag next time though.
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