Old post 15

Do you ever get the feeling life is conspiring against you?

I had spied a cheeky Christmas outfit in the shop. I toyed with the idea of getting it as a nice surprise for my husband on Christmas morning. Was I being silly? Maybe being daft is good at Christmas? This was the debate I had with myself as I left it in the shop. As I sat at home, I thought that as it was in my size, maybe I was destined to have it.

The next day I walked to town to attend my son’s Christingle Service at the church. I had to pass the shop and found myself going in and buying the outfit. By now, I was short on time. As I paid for the items, I looked through the door of the shop and saw my son’s class making their way through town to church. Please God, let the assistant give me a plastic bag that will cover up the hardly church-appropriate outfit. I swear never before has a bag been so see-through. I scrunched up the outfit in a futile attempt to make it small enought to be hidden in my hand.

I had to go to the Christingle Service and as a lapsed Catholic was hit very much with that A-Level in guilt. How low have I sunk to have a sexy outfit whilst in church?

The following day, my son had an after-school club. My daughter and I have got into the habit as this is a short-term after school club of going into town between picking her up and returning for my son. The trouble is that it is cold and the town does not really provide enough entertainment to fill a hour. So we go to the pub for about 20 minutes for a soft drink. As I ordered the drinks, the barmaid asked, “Did she get her bag?” I did not register what she was on about at first but then remembered that my daughter’s bag had done missing. Looking down, I saw my daughter had the bag on her shoulder. “We sent it into school as our cleaner works there too. You left it last time you were in”.

Deep joy! Now the school will think I am a festive lush who is always taking her children to the pub after school.

They say such things come in threes. My youngest son is fascinated by a book I found at the Christmas fair all about crossing Antartica. I had registered it was by Sir Edmund Hillary. “Can I take it into school for show and tell?” I had one of those proud mummy moments that my son is so interested in such a grown-up book. “Absolutely darling” replied I. I felt slightly differently on picking him up when I became aware the book is also written by Sir Vivian Fuchs. I will leave you to guess the rest.

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