Of mice and (wo)men.

Dear Emma,

OK so taking the kids and their friends to the graveyard for a play date might not seem an obvious choice but you have to bear in mind I was short on time and money. I tried to make it as interesting and fun as possible and how can I have known when conducting my mini tour with five under 7s, that there was going to be a burial taking place.

It wasn't my fault!

It wasn’t my fault!

I’m reasonably confident however, having explained the death of a granny in the sunniest terms I could muster, that the nightmares won’t last long and by the time I handed the children back to their mothers most of them had stopped crying.

Unfortunately and in a similar vein, how was I to know, as I tossed the remains of a decapitated mouse out of the bedroom window that the local Brownies would be enjoying a walk in the country directly outside or that I was such a devastatingly good shot. And how, as they returned from their walk later on, was I supposed to explain why I appeared to be man handling a large pheasant out of my kitchen while the dog attempted to remove its intestines. Needless to say  child 1’s application to join the Brownies has been turned down and yet again, there is that awkward space around me in the playground.

An unfortunately macabre kind of week.

An unfortunately macabre kind of week.

But the most noticeable lesson that I’ve learnt this week, dear Emma, is that when your child asks you why you are washing a poo, don’t dismiss him as talking nonsense. Do equip yourself with rubber gloves and prepare for a long afternoon of washing and re washing the effected laundry. Mine is not to reason why just be grateful that not even I could stomach a photo of that one.

But things are looking up. I’ve only missed 4 school meetings, 3 lots of homework, 2 form handing in deadlines and only once forgotten to pick them up in the 10 days that we’ve been back at school so I’m confident this term is going to be a good one.

Until next time and rodents beware. Lucy

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