Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (24 page)

Left at nine, unable to cope with much more talk of villas here and yachts there.

Ended up in Pizza Express with F&J, the four of us voting for the most obnoxious person we’d met that night.  Fenella eventually disqualified Ned and Josh’s suggestions as she said they hadn’t tried nearly hard enough.

Decided we’d met so many it was impossible to judge one from the other as they’d morphed into one big pompous blob.

God, we’re such bitches but it felt good to finally relax.  Tucked into our dough-balls, trying to guess how often ‘Letchy Dad’ tried it on in a day.

Saturday 13
^th
September

Had a quick chat with Pritesh in the front garden.  He’d come over to take his mum to a big family wedding in Southall.  “She’ll spend the whole time trying to set me up with any available women but then it will always come back to how perfect
you
are, Libby.”

Mmm, he really is very attractive in a cheeky chappy kind of way.  No woman could fail to be flattered by his attention even if Mrs S’s obsession is getting a little bit out of control.

Went over to Nic & Rick’s for lunch.  Took Dog & Dot so they could play in the garden with Max and Stripe.  (Who has settled in as the spoilt child of the household).

Nic very excited as he may have landed himself a commercial that could mean big bucks.

Got talking about my Christmas fair dilemmas.  The great thing about gay friends - they want to know every boring detail of your life, not just the juicy bits. 

Nic volunteered their services as face-painters for the day.  They’re both very talented and have often done a masterpiece on Max.  Thought this was a great idea
and
they’ve offered to do it gratis, so any money taken will be pure profit.

Rick said, “It’ll be great to see the kind of circles you’re mixing in now, Libster.  Sure they can’t be half as bad as you and Fenella make out.  You just made up that salmon and pizza story for effect, you big drama queen!”

I’ll just let them decide for themselves.

Sunday 14
^th
September

Update email to Shaaaron last night, letting her know that Nic & Rick had volunteered to do the face painting at no charge.

The return email read:

‘Thanks for the update.  Must stress that your ‘actor friends’ will need to have a police check before being allowed to work for us.  Sure you can understand the importance of this.  Will leave you to organise.’

‘Actor friends’ -
were the quotes really necessary? She made them sound vulgar.

Work for us? 
They’re doing it for nothing!

And I’m sure none of the dads on the Father Christmas rota will have to be vetted. (But of course, Effin’ Safety will keep them in check).

What about the outside stall holders?  Do we have to check those as well in case their sole reason for coming is to sneak a child into one of their boxes when they’re packing up?

Felt really quite affronted.  Even though Ned said it was only right for them to be taking precautions. 

Was dreading calling Nic as I thought he might tell me to shove the police check where Mrs S thinks the sun shines and I wouldn’t blame him.

Instead he simply said, “No need to get your knickers in a twist girl.  We both had checks when we did that ‘theatre in education’ stint.  Came out whiter than white.”

Another crisis averted but still felt a little peeved - must remember to find out if any others need to have checks or if it’s just limited to
my
friends.

Monday 15
^th
September AM

More ridiculous emails!

Fenella and I live in constant fear of what we’ll find in our inbox next.

Just today …

‘Not allowed to sell the Christmas puddings you have sourced as they contain nuts.’

 
It is stated very clearly on the label ‘CONTAINS NUTS’ but they are still considered contraband (airbound particles).

‘Sweets are not to be used as consolation prizes - the children have enough treats and we are responsible for their oral health.’

Find alternatives. Do I have the audacity to ask the Pound Shop for a refund?

‘No unaccompanied child is to be sold food - so many have allergies now and we cannot take risks. Also choking must be considered.’

Yes, I’m considering it!

‘Pocket money toys must be good value for money and absolutely no plastic, tattoos or fake nails.’

More Pound Shop refunds.

‘An adult must be on lavatory duty at all times - check cleanliness and ensure little ones don’t get locked in.  Under no circumstances may any ‘toileting assistance’ be given.’

Our recipe book idea for CCL went down well though.  Each family and member of staff is to submit a recipe and the children will do some illustrations for it.  We have a dad in publishing who’ll print it free of charge and we’ve been told to order 300 and sell them at 20 quid each - seems a little pricey to me but who am I to judge in this Brave New World?

BUT …
the recipe book must also contain, nut free, gluten free, fat free, sugar free and meat free recipes - it will make it ‘so much more saleable’.

Yep, the plot has officially been lost!

PM

Jenny came round with her pashminas after school and we had a real hoot with her.

Fenella said her honesty is a joy to behold.  Whereas we
guiltily
discuss our Meemie grievances, she has no qualms about exposing hers.

“I’ve worked there long enough to be able to spot ‘
the type’.
  I’ve been treated like a queen by some and worse than shit by others.”

Fenella and I were eager to hear more - and she didn’t mind accommodating.

“My Colin inherited a rather smart veteran Jag, you know - his pride and joy.  Well, one morning one of the mothers saw him giving it a little polish and she asked him how much he charged.  When he told her it was
our
car and not a sideline, she wouldn’t believe him!  Wasn’t until she saw us pull up in it one day that she was convinced.  ‘
How could a lowly caretaker and school secretary possibly own a car like that?’”

Ended up opening a bottle of wine so that we could extricate more.

A little boy had once invited Jenny to tea at his house because he’d always been a sickly child and Jenny took care of him in the office.  The mother flustered in front of Jenny and said they’d talk about it when they got home.  The next day the boy went to Jenny and said, “I’m really sorry but Mummy says you can’t come for tea because it would be like eating with a servant!” 

She knew it wasn’t said in malice.  From
him
at least!

Fenella and I were just left speechless.

Jenny continued, “But don’t get me wrong.  There are some lovely mums there - the ones who know how to treat people.  I think the worst are those who married into money (often their rich bosses - boy, could I tell you a few stories there!) or the ‘new money’ set - they just seem to forget where they came from.”

Felt such an affinity with Jenny, I asked if she and Colin would like to come for dinner in a couple of weeks.

Said they’d love to.  “It’s funny, you know the last time we were invited for dinner with parents was when I met a new mum at a school drinks party and she just thought I was another mummy.  Got on quite well and she said we must get together sometime. Then she asked what Colin did for a living.  Never heard from her again and whenever I pass her in the corridor now she blanks me!”

Can still see Fenella clutching her wine and ample chest with her mouth wide open.

Tuesday 16
^th
September

Seedling class coffee morning.

As class reps it fell to Fenella or me to host the coffee morning.

There was no way I wanted 20 sticky beak mothers scrutinising my humble abode and I wouldn’t have had the space to accommodate them anyway - unless they sat on one another’s laps, tables, welsh dresser, floor etc.

Thank goodness Fenella had volunteered and went straight home after school drop off to tidy up a bit while I went off to buy pastries and croissants.

Mothers were meant to arrive at ten but we were still twiddling our thumbs at half past - obviously they had more pressing demands on their time.