There is one guest who is not welcome this year.
Dear Cranky Mummy,
It’s been a long year, a hard year and as we limp towards the end, that slow creep towards the holidays, that last surge of endless activities and needs to be met before Christmas I am here to say good-bye.
You’ve had your time to shine this year.
You’ve had numerous bouts of put-your-shoes-on-now and that’s-what-I-made-and-you-WILL eat it.
You’ve raised your eyebrows at a three-year old insistent on wearing that same dress every day no matter where she is going, even if navy fairy wings aren’t appropriate for the park. You’ve shaken your head and found yourself saying, “You aren’t seriously wearing that out of the house are you?”
You’ve had your moment to crow when yet another child played that I’m hiding behind the post-box and you can’t see me when you really, really need to get the others to school. You had your moment to snap “come on we’re late!”.
You’ve been able to sigh very loudly at streams of crumbs across a freshly swept floor, and to huff and mutter at the sound of a box of Lego being tipped up in a just-tidied toy room.
You’ve had lost soccer boots and upended plates of spaghetti. Siblings bickering and back seat brawling.
Cranky Mummy you were in your element when you found fuchsia nail polish splashed across the carpet and danced a cranky dance when that nappy somehow came off and the contents were somehow streaked across the cot.