Wishful Thinking

I had a telephone call from the school today, at around 10am. As I picked up the handset I was thinking "Not already Aedan, it's only Monday!"

It went something like this:-

Hello, Mrs Evans?

Yes.

It's the school here, Conall's at school today.

Yes. (Wondering, where on earth are we going with this one?)

Is he going to be at school all week?

Yes...

It's just that he told his teacher he was going away on holiday today, so he would miss the last week of school. She gave him all his workbooks on Friday to take home, so if he's going to be here, he needs them in school so he can do some work. They're in a purple folder.

Well, they might have been on Friday, but they certainly weren't by Monday! I had to scrabble around to find any half-finished workbooks with recent dates in them and take them to school. Little imp!

Apart from a grown teacher taking the word of a seven year old as gospel, (I never do, and he's my seven year old!) I would have had to fill in a form, asking permission to take my child out of school, (which would automatically be denied for a holiday, and rightly so) and I would have spoken to the teacher myself, to be polite. Not to mention the absence of an end of year present and the fact that, having already taught two other of my children, she might have noticed I never take my children out of school!

Still, maybe it's all just wishful thinking and shows he's just looking forward to our camping holiday, in a fortnights time!

Ah bless.

Helping

Ciara suggested we "purify" Rhiannon's food, to make it easier for her to eat with her braces in...

Everytime

I can't help myself. It's happened ever since I was a child. Whenever I hear "Two Little Boys" by Rolf Harris, I cry. Every time.

In the kitchen this morning, getting the childrens' breakfast before they went to Gardening Club, (sounds so wholesome for a Saturday morning, before 9 am too!) and it came on the radio. Next thing I know, I'm crying my eyes out!

Every time.

Children were laughing at me, I might add. Little treasures.

Guilty!

Okay, so as there were no trousers, with or without pockets and the only long sleeved top was mine, I guess I was the culprit for the tissue in the wash. It's a very pretty shade of pink now, because it was a pink/red wash.

I cannot, however, claim to have had a small piece of polystyrene up my sleeve with the tissue, so I have no idea how that got into the washing machine!

The previous wash was coats, adult coats only, and I checked the pockets of those. (You just never know, there maybe something more interesting than a pine cone in an adult's coat pocket, like a five pound note or a lost winning lottery ticket...)

Hey ho, "It'th a mythtery, Oh it'th a mythtery..."