Today is the last day of school. You would think the children would all be jolly happy and behave beautifully but no, this morning from the moment they woke up to the moment we left them in the care of their deliriously happy (I wonder why?) teachers, they fought.
They fought about everything and nothing. Every single decision was a battle. Every action was commented upon. Every word prompted a violent reaction. I was called “evil” by my son at least 50 times and told he would rather go and stay with Chantal (my child-minder) than come away with me. The extent of my evilness was to put the wrong T-shirt on him and insist he go to school today.
In the car on the way to school Bea finally lost her patience. “I tell you Olivia,” she warned. “Jesus will send you to hell.” Bea’s best friend Manon wants to be a nun and there is a lot of talk about Jesus at the moment. The other day Leo was told he could only borrow Bea’s scooter if he promised “not to shout at mummy and to pray to Jesus”.
We left school feeling extremely gloomy. The prospect of our “holiday” which starts in two hours and 45 minutes is not a nice one. A week in Sweden with three warring factions. It makes Tony Blair’s new job as middle-east envoy look like a walk in the park. Maybe we could do a job-swap?
So if you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s not that I’ve forgotten you, it’s just that I’m using my laptop to beat the children with in between trips to Hennes and IKEA.
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2007