Wanted: Mother, armed and dangerous
May. 7th, 2004 12:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_rainetteThat dreaded moment is upon me again: Mother's Day. 3 days of endless pain and chaos fun.
It started today with the Tea Party at tadpole's Playschool. I got an invitation asking me to "dress up and wear a hat". A hat? Have husband's old cowboy hat, but somehow I don't think that would be adequate. Oh well.
So I dressed up, put on some make-up - which I don't do all that often - and since I still had a little time on my hands before going to the Tea Party, I went to read my flist. When I saw that![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
copperbagge had finished Stealing Harry, I followed the link and oh boy.
I ended up, quite expectedly, getting the sniffles - I blame mainly my soppy self for this, because soppy self has quite a history of getting the sniffles at the most inappropriate moments;copperbadge is a close second, though, because this story is just so damn good. Haven't read it? Why the heck not? Go, go, go! No, wait. Here, have a kleenex. Now, go here.
I wiped my eyes with the kleenex, and checked myself in the mirror before leaving the house. Oh, the horror! In the course of events, I had, of course, forgotten all about the mascara I had just lovingly applied to my lashes. Waterproof mascara, indeed. I now looked like a bloody racoon.
I quickly fixed it and finally made it to the tea party, where a stray hat was abruptly plonked onto my head ("have to wear a hat", another mum gushed. I'm not sure I thanked her, but I don't think I hurt her either. Not much, anyway). I closely avoided getting apple juice spilled onto my beautiful new skirt, for which I was absurdly grateful. But then of course, I relaxed too early and didn't notice tiny tadpole fastidiously wiping her little stawberry-spattered hands all over me. *sighs*
The rest is to be expected: the girls will give me the little presents they have made for me (painted flower-pots; froglet refused to tell husband what she'd made for me, argueing that it was a "secret surprise", but she told me, though instead of hollering it at the top of her lungs, she whispered it into my ear - her one concession to secrecy). Froglet and tadpole will bounce up and down in excitement while I open up the presents; they will beam proudly while I praise their efforts; and then, invariably, they will take off with the presents, which will much later resurface in the most improbable places (the fridge, the microwave, the washing machine, a bowl of soup), in various states of disrepair.
Endless fun, I tell you.
The worst thing is, Mother's Day in France is not before the end of - May? June? I don't even know anymore! So there is a high risk that I forget to call my mum, and as much as she pretends not to care, she would Never Forget should I not call her. *goes into hiding*
It started today with the Tea Party at tadpole's Playschool. I got an invitation asking me to "dress up and wear a hat". A hat? Have husband's old cowboy hat, but somehow I don't think that would be adequate. Oh well.
So I dressed up, put on some make-up - which I don't do all that often - and since I still had a little time on my hands before going to the Tea Party, I went to read my flist. When I saw that
copperbagge had finished Stealing Harry, I followed the link and oh boy. I ended up, quite expectedly, getting the sniffles - I blame mainly my soppy self for this, because soppy self has quite a history of getting the sniffles at the most inappropriate moments;
copperbadge is a close second, though, because this story is just so damn good. Haven't read it? Why the heck not? Go, go, go! No, wait. Here, have a kleenex. Now, go here. I wiped my eyes with the kleenex, and checked myself in the mirror before leaving the house. Oh, the horror! In the course of events, I had, of course, forgotten all about the mascara I had just lovingly applied to my lashes. Waterproof mascara, indeed. I now looked like a bloody racoon.
I quickly fixed it and finally made it to the tea party, where a stray hat was abruptly plonked onto my head ("have to wear a hat", another mum gushed. I'm not sure I thanked her, but I don't think I hurt her either. Not much, anyway). I closely avoided getting apple juice spilled onto my beautiful new skirt, for which I was absurdly grateful. But then of course, I relaxed too early and didn't notice tiny tadpole fastidiously wiping her little stawberry-spattered hands all over me. *sighs*
The rest is to be expected: the girls will give me the little presents they have made for me (painted flower-pots; froglet refused to tell husband what she'd made for me, argueing that it was a "secret surprise", but she told me, though instead of hollering it at the top of her lungs, she whispered it into my ear - her one concession to secrecy). Froglet and tadpole will bounce up and down in excitement while I open up the presents; they will beam proudly while I praise their efforts; and then, invariably, they will take off with the presents, which will much later resurface in the most improbable places (the fridge, the microwave, the washing machine, a bowl of soup), in various states of disrepair.
Endless fun, I tell you.
The worst thing is, Mother's Day in France is not before the end of - May? June? I don't even know anymore! So there is a high risk that I forget to call my mum, and as much as she pretends not to care, she would Never Forget should I not call her. *goes into hiding*
no subject
Date: 2004-05-07 12:58 pm (UTC)/random lurker
no subject
Date: 2004-05-07 02:28 pm (UTC)Now that's easy enough to remember. Happens to be the one day I have a concert AND a kiddie birthday party. Will call mom on mobile while driving wildly in a desperate attempt to make it from the one to the other in time.