I learnt a very valuable lesson today. For years I have worn my pyjamas to school drop off. My car has automatic doors, purchased for the sole purpose of me being able to drop the kids out the front and not leave my vehicle.
It needs to be said the area which I live in is full of mothers who use the school drop zone as a fashion parade. Alannah Hill, Country Road and various other high end fashion stores are directly across the road in the shopping centre. Which once the children are lobbed off sees some serious plastic burning from local women. I don’t participate in morning coffee dates or shopping sprees because: A. My pyjamas don’t fit in and B. I have too many kids.
The pyjama arrangement had worked well until this morning when not only did I get a flat tyre, it blew out leaving my car scraping the wheel rim on the road. The only reason I knew this is because a lovely mother pointed it out and told me to stop the car immediately. The car bunny hopping and shrieking which would have been heard by any normal person was drowned out by kids screaming.
2.5 hours later, given filthy looks by a parking ranger, having a hot Irish repairman advise me no spare tyre existed and a tow truck arriving later I was left out the front of the school. With 3 kids. In my hole filled pyjamas, all of us without footwear waiting for a taxi to take our pathetic souls home. Praying to God out the front of the church that no designer brigade member walked past.
They didn’t. But the Parish Priest did. And he asked me if I was ok.
Probably because we looked like we had crawled out of spending the night in the charity bin around the corner.
The lesson I learnt from this? Always, whatever you do, wear your very best pyjamas to school. You never know what might happen.