Struck off!

The other week as I stood in the queue outside the classroom for Mini Man I could hear a very persistent child begging his mum for someone to come round and play. I wasn't really tuned in until I heard Mini Man's name mentioned and then the mother saying to her little boy that they would wait until they saw 'Mini Man's' mum come to pick him up (Mini Man is the only one in his class of that name and seeing as though this little boy checked in the classroom and said he was still there suggests to me, I was the mum in question). This mum as well appears to be taking a different child home each week for a play date.

I didn't manage to catch her eye to let her know I was Mini Man's mum and was soon at the front of the queue asking for him. Now Mini Man is getting a little too big for his boots right now. He has started full time school and his confidence has zoomed through the roof and with that has come a huge dose of belligerence and stubbornness. He does not listen, he runs off, he laughs when told off, he knows best, and he is generally being very naughty at the moment, pushing every feasible boundary possible.

This particular night was no exception with him charging out of the classroom, thrusting his water bottle at me with a 'here' and then legging it off down the corridor without a backwards glance. I sprinted after him (more like lumbered but sprinted sounds so much better), and returned him to the pegs to get his coat. By this stage mother, baby and persistent little boy were deep in conversation with another mum.

This mother reminds me of someone who should be in the 1950's. She has a very sensible, kind of curly short haircut, perfect but sensible makeup (a bit like my Granny use to wear), she always wears a knee length skirt or trousers and flat comfortable shoes. I don't know but she reminds me of the woman on the front of my Good Housekeeping cook book. She looks like the type that is a proper housewife - tea on the table for when husband comes home, children bathed and quiet, slippers warming. I may be doing her a huge injustice, nothing like judging by appearances after all!

Anyhow getting outdoor clothes on Mini Man and him to pack his lunchbox, water bottle and god knows what else was an effort and he finally slipped my clutches and legged it again which had me doing my best fish wife impression down the corridor as he collided with a smaller child.

1950's mother, baby and persistent little boy were all within ear shot. 3 or 4 of the other mothers gave me that sympathetic look and smile saying 'I know how you feel'. I disappeared off after my child ready to wring his neck.

The next day as I was walking into the school playground 1950's mum was approaching me so I smiled and stopped, introduced myself as Mini Man's mum and said I had overheard her saying she wanted to speak with me. I was quite categorically told that actually her little boy had said Mini man's mum needed a word with her, and she didn't need to speak with me, and that was that, she went off and I went in the opposite direction smiling.

It seems we have been deemed an unsuitable family after my fish wife impression and I was only hollering his name and shouting come back here now please - albeit quite loudly (if she thinks that's bad she should pop round for 8.00am when we are trying to get dressed with Little Man twirling on the landing, t-shirts going on backwards, trousers before pants and the shower left running with the door open).

I have seen her plenty of times since and she won't look at me or smile despite my best efforts to try and show that Mini man comes from a loving, stress free home where shouting is seen as unnecessary, and discipline is paramount. I have to admit though it does keep making me chuckle!