Thursday, 10 April 2008

Setting off for PGL

It is a bright and breezy day. But it's still April, so we can look out for showers and judge the distance should we need to run. It's cold enough too, with a sharp icicle wind, for the cherry tree to be wrapping up its blossom for another week.

Mothers of school children in the county next to us will be coiling warm scarves and bright woolly coats about their youngest children and carefully depositing them beyond school gates that lock at lunchtime; until the time these small adventurers are to be picked up again by an attendant adult, they will be watched and supervised; they will be steered in this direction for that lesson, this space for that play, here for dinner, there for collecting coats and going home. Going home. To safety.

And mummy Grit, the irresponsible, no-good mummy, will be taking her smallest and most tender offshoot up into the rolling hills of Shropshire, tipping her out into a wind-blasted field and abandoning her, to be battered, bruised, assaulted and thrown off a cliff.

Those thoughts, and others, worse yet, are the thoughts that are gnawing at me as I drive the long journey to a Travelodge off the A49 north of Shrewsbury. I have already settled in my mind that Squirrel's adventure holiday is all a disaster. We may not even get there. We shall probably be incinerated in a bizarre accident north of Birmingham involving a gasoline tanker and an ice-cream van. We shall be hurtled to our deaths from the heights of a freak tornado. We will die from hypothermia after becoming grid-locked on the M1 overnight because the car has broken down. And I will deserve it all, because I am the sort of wretched mother who abandons her Squirrel to maniacs in fields and PE teachers who have no souls.

By the time we reach Shrewsbury I am barely able to breathe. I tell Shark, Squirrel and Tiger that they had better look after me because I may pass out. Squirrel suggests eating chips, and Tiger says this is a good idea because she is hungry. Shark suggests that after everyone has eaten chips they could go to bed. She says that when the lights go off I could hide in the toilet again and drink beer. I say that is probably the best thought anyone has given me all day, and so I do that.

And tomorrow I abandon Squirrel to her fate.

7 comments:

Potty Mummy said...

I hope it was Tennants Super, Grit. Works much faster...

the mother of this lot said...

There will be no bizarre incidents or freak tornadoes and nobody is going to die.

This is a character building experience. You will need it, because in about three weeks they will all be eighteen, out clubbing with God knows who and uncontactable by text or phone call.

Think of it as practice. And stop worrying. It is a waste of time and there's no point in two of us being worried.

Squirrel will have the time of her life and will be talking about it for months afterwards.

I do concede, however, that PE teachers have no souls.

the mother of this lot said...

I forgot. I've tagged you with something really easy.

Kelly Jene said...

I just caught up on your posts and dang gone it my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.

She will be fine mummy Grit. But Lord knows how I would worry all the same things as you. She's going to have a blast and will be more then eager to see you once the time has ended.

Big hugs for mummy.

Lynn said...

What a fantastic imagination you have,wonder who your girls take after in that dept;-))
She will have a fine adventure for the three days my concern lies with you, sending lots of hugs and just make sure you have emergency supplies of beer in xx

Mean Mom said...

Did you think that Shark didn't know how you usually spend your evenings, then?? Aaah! You've been busted!!

How are you coping, then? I, too, am missing one of my babies, today. He went back to university, after coming home for a few days. There is no end to a mother's suffering, you know! Squirrel will be back before you know it, and you'll have a great time, when you get back together.

Grit said...

hi potty mummy, thanks for the tip!

you are right motl, and i take off my hat to your wisdom in this way. you lead, i follow.

thank you kelly tean. i am being a foolish trout really.

yes, lynn, and thank you. honestly, i am very glad of this blogging life.

i am sure you are right mean mom. and i shall start worrying about university soon enough, no doubt. as soon as she gets that magic e stuff anyhow.