Always hard to get into the routine of 3 year old to nursery and (now) 7 year old to school. Washed, dressed, fed, lunchboxed, shrieked at, toothbrushed, homeworked-accompanied, letter-to-teacher’d, nit-sprayed (hey! preventative-only folks!) and shielded from being swept away by tale end of hurricane down our valley….
So today – am sorry to say, that I trucked up to the Mummy-Gossip Fest that is the School Gates, wearing my trackies, sans make-up and hair all over the place. As far from Yummydom as you can possibly get. So it was kind of nice that Ruby kissed me goodbye and said;
“Oh Mummmy! You really look like a teenager today, you know!”
I glowed. Bless her. But then came the increasingly familiar verbal backhander that she doesn’t even yet *realise* she has inherited from BOTH sides of the family….
Tapping her chin, she widened her eyes and reinforced;
“But a teenager from HERE downwards – you know. Your clothes I mean”