Should be a day when I am simply cockahooping, doublehighfiving, overmooning and doing what all expression signifies a glorious tootatooting day.
The Home Ed Olympics. At a stadium in St Albans.
Forget the sideshow in London. This is the day when home ed children come from counties all about to take part in an organised athletics day with a proper timekeeper, clipboard, numbers, medal set and audience a-clapping.
Now at this point I should also be HAHAHAHAing because a day like today clearly proves how very well sorted we are. One in the eye for the naysayers who think home ed kids cannot be sporting nor can socialise in any way. They underestimate the determination, organisation, and extensive contacts of the mamas and the papas.
I drive there in great full heart, despite the lashing rain, plummeting temperatures and extensive roadworks on the M1.
But there was something in the air not quite right about our competitor Tiger. A cloud looming about her head, settling in her scowls, and gathering in her heart.
Suffice to say that Grit drove home two hours later in the lashing rain and plummeting temperatures while the happy Home Ed Olympics continued their glorious day behind us.
Grit of the Shires finds only positive life lessons here, of course. Pin a medal to my chest for indefatigable endurance (read: obstinate stupidity). Say that the lesson of the day is, Home Education offers you hours to discuss issues of personal expectation, achievement, involvement, competitiveness, endurance, success, failure, and getting to the races on time instead of locking yourself in the toilet, all while you are stuck in the traffic back home through the extensive roadworks on the M1.
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