I knew it was time for the holidays to end because the insults were getting more and more inventive as the children and I got more and more crabby.
Son One wins the prize with his “big fool-headed dodo” while Son Two, the object of his invective, has developed an especially irritating Picachu impression.
The summer hadn’t been up to much anyway… I’d finally given up trying to wear the linen I’d bought in a rush optimism in May.
Son Two got packed off to school for the first time – a little aprehensive, but delighted to see his chums from nursery.
The most confusing element of the day is why many of those children are wearing blazers they almost certainly will never ever put on again.
Maybe someone rents them out for first-day-at-school mornings.
Lots of the mums were sniffing bravely and one or two were distraught.
I was fine though – Son Two and I are both ready for him to go to school.
If I had any doubt it was allayed by an item of post this morning – something I really wasn’t ready for and had me sobbing into the Kleenex… the first Christmas gift catalogue.