- Forgot the bastard Harvest Festival until the moment we were leaving for school. Had to send child 1 with a rusty tin of kidney beans and child 2 with a box of lasagne sheets. Thank fuck the local food-bank don’t rely on self-absorbed arse-holes like me for donations. Oh wait, they do.
- Got the following message from the teacher in child 2’s reading record: Have given S these books for another week as he said he has not read them yet. Yep, I’ve had over a week to read these with him and I’ve not even taken them out of his bag.
- Put child 2 in the wrong boxer shorts on Wednesday. You see, it’s P.E. on a Wednesday. It’s of paramount importance to him that he wears a particular pair of boxer shorts on this day so that his bollocks don’t come out at the sides when he’s getting changed in front of his friends. Let’s just say I was entirely to blame for the inevitable free-balling situation at changing time.
- Used Grand Theft Auto as a baby-sitter for my 5-year-old whilst I applied fake-tan. To be fair I put it on mute.
- “Recycled” school uniforms for 4 days in a row and will almost certainly send the buggers in the same attire tomorrow.
AND THE SHIT MUM AWARD GOES TO …..
I’ve just got back from the school run. This morning and every Wednesday morning at my son’s school, we (parents, grandparents) are invited to stay from 8.50 until 9.10 for “Stay and Read”. The school website advertises these sessions as “the opportunity to enjoy sharing a book with your child”. Completely false advertising may I point out. I’ve re-worded the advert ever so slightly, to give parents/grandparents/anyone-who-gives-a-shit a little bit more of an insight into what these sessions are actually about ….
We would like to welcome all parents and grandparents to attend our weekly “Stay and Read” sessions. These sessions involve:
- Sitting on miniature chairs and/or a filthy carpet in the noisiest and most rammed classroom in the world.
- Pretending to “share” a book with your child, who has absolutely no fucking interest in the book and cannot actually read yet.
- Making small talk with other stay-and-readers/members of school staff about how fantastic these sessions are, when really you would rather be licking a tramp’s arse.
- Making over enthusiastic comments like “wow, isn’t this book amazing?!” and adopting silly voices for the different characters in the book (what a knob-head I sound) so that the aforementioned stay-and-readers/members of school staff think that you are a complete pro at animatedly “sharing” books with your child when, in actual fact, sharing a book with your child usually consists of skimming through multiple pages at lightning speed before declaring “The End, Night Night!”.
- Being surrounded/poked/harassed by other children whose parents are working/busy/ wanted to get home to watch the end of Lorraine/could not be arsed to attend Stay and Read. And having to be nice to them whilst your own child has fucked off to find the lego.
- Taking your eye off your own child for 10 seconds, during which time he manages to get into trouble from the teacher for running around the classroom, leaving you looking like a completely incompetent moron.
- Please note: If you can manage to forget about Stay and Read until you actually arrive at school, that’s even better. That way you can keep your coat on the whole time because you still have your PJ top (with no bra of course!) underneath. Coming close to dying of over-heating whilst your titties swing free will make the session more enjoyable.
- Also note: Bring an unreasonable and destructive toddler along too. All welcome!