Thursday, 26 May 2011

Morning from hell

Woke up to the strains of J’s snoring in one ear and the dawn chorus in the other. As I also had Welsh revision on my mind I got up to do some and then G9 joined me sniffing hard. Unfortunately I then proceeded to get a blow by blow description about which nostril has 'more in it' than the other. Way too much information. I suggested we go back to bed, snuggle down and read some. It was very early still.

A little while later and after a coffee I asked J what time it was, “7:20” he said. Fine I thought, another hour at least until we all have to get up. I curled up under the duvet – and R E L A X E D.  Urgent shout from downstairs rudely broke into my now semi comatose state, “G9, G9” - “Whaaaaaaaaat?” I shouted back grumpily. “It’s time for G9 to go.”  Crikes (or words to that effect). I knew G9 had to get up earlier as having a day’s experience at the local secondary school, but somehow I hadn’t equated 7:20 as being 40 minutes to eight when J had told me the time earlier. She had to be at the bus stop at quarter to eight. Mad panic. G9 dressing and me ‘helping’ by throwing clothes at her, scrabbling round to find dinner money, throwing some food into her bag as no time for breakfast, quick comb of the hair.

Off Him Next Door and G9 went. Mission accomplished. Then suddenly – I remembered. She was supposed to wear trainers, not her school shoes. Bear in mind I’m still in my dressing gown (which is bright red with black flashes by the way, not at all subtle). I grabbed my bright green Crocs (just to tastefully finish off my ensemble) and ran after Him Next Door’s car – waving G9s trainers in the air. Him Next Door didn’t look back. Hyperventilating I ran back home, grabbed our car keys and raced up the road. I tore past Him Next Door, who was just starting to drive back. I stopped the bus by waving like a mad women. The bus driver opened the door. I don’t think my attire helped allay his fears that he was indeed about to be attacked by a mad women. Meanwhile I tried to forget what I was wearing. “Grace” I called. “Yes” she replied. She didn’t move. “Grace” I called again, but this time in a higher tone and through gritted teeth, “Could you possibly come here?” 18 pairs of eyes were glued to the spectacle that was me. I handed her the trainers and then as inconspicuously and as quickly as possible retired to the sanctuary of the car.

Back home I asked Him Next Door what time was she being dropped back at the bus stop. “I don’t know and I’m a bit worried that the bus was heading towards Clarbeston Road.” (Clarbeston Road is in the opposite direction to Ysgol Preseli). Double cripes. I phoned Grace’s primary school and spoke to the caretaker who was most helpful (even with an idiotic parent on the line; rambling on and speaking pigeon Welsh). He didn’t have any definite answers.

Where is G9?  What time will she be coming home?
The colours of my 'subtle' dressing gown....


Chris Stovell said...

Well done - you bailed G9 out! A wardrobe malfunction can be excused on a mummy but harder for G9... as I know when I sent Rose to school in her uniform on a mufti day *hangs head in shame*

Preseli Mags said...

I'm not laughing (much). You're a braver woman than me. I don't think I'd have stopped the bus in my dressing gown, but then it isn't nearly as eye-catching as yours. You saved the day though. Let us know what G9 has to say about it later!

PS: You will not believe the word verification - it's 'stormis'

Rob-bear said...

Those are very "distinctive" colours. Not a "malfunction" at all, but a bright and lively start for everyone's day. (Except, perhaps, G9's.)

As for your Welsh exam, I'd wish you "Good luck," but my knowledge of Welsh doesn't extend that far. Yet.

Diane said...

Chris Stovell has just pointed me in your direction - love your blog to bits - will follow with interest as we are a 3 generation family - OH, DS of 26 - who can't afford to move out although has a history degree can only get a bread-line wage as a cover supervisor in a secondary school and DM ( darling 84 yrs young Mother) who now resides in our garage and the dog...!!

Lins' lleisio said...

Thank you all.

G9 when questioned said she was a bit embarrassed, backed up by the fact that she didn't move when I initially called her name on the bus ;) Oh dear – I hope I haven’t scarred her for life.

Thank you Chris and hello Diane. Thanks so very much for following. Your family situation sounds very similar to mine. If you start or have a blog I'll follow you too. xx

I hope Chris that Rose has forgiven you now.... :)

Bear - Pob lwc. Are you going to learn? Great to have someone else with which to share my angst.

PS:- Just to put the tin lid on it, the trainers stayed in her bag all day. Doh.

the veg artist said...

Choose from either i) they have all seen much worse or ii) you will be the talk of the village. If you think ii, then at least console yourself that you will have given whoever they were talking about last week a break!!

Rob-bear said...

Yes, I'm trying to learn Welsh. Unfortunately, our big move has upset my plans. I hope to get back to it by the summer. I'm using some materials from BBC Wales.

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