In the final frantic minutes before the school run starts, at least five minutes after we should have left the house, I finally lose my temper.
The smallest bean, who is prone to following flights of fancy and whimsy rather than the task in hand, is not yet dressed.
This is a repetitive irritation and I point it out, once or twice.
Predictably he dissolves into tears and it takes even longer to get out of the house.
Later, when all is calm again, a small voice says "But Mummy, I thought we would be friends forever."
Honestly. What is a mother to do?
9 years ago
1 comment:
The bad news is that teenagers are worse. The good news is that you have developed devious strategies for dealing with the issue by then.
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