By BERN MORLEY
I stood there, eagerly waiting to scope out that cheeky face in the throng of identical navy uniforms. The bell sounded and out came 500 scruffy, hot and bothered primary school children bounding towards their daily freedom.
This was a bit of a rarity and privilege for me, to be honest – I work a lot and I rarely get the chance to pick my son up after school.
This particular day, Jack ran out from his classroom, his eyes lighting up as he spotted me in the crowd. He then proceeded to launch himself at me and wrap himself around my leg.
That was when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see an immaculately groomed woman in what can only be described as “high performance workout wear”.
She spoke quickly, like her mouth was a rapid-fire machine gun. She was clearly on a mission.
“You’re Jack’s mother, aren’t you?”
You would think that the child named Jack wrapped around my thigh would be a dead giveaway but instead I answered her with a nod and a smile.
“We don’t see you in the classroom very much,” spat over-enthusiastic Jane Fonda.
I fumbled and tried to explain that I worked and that I didn’t have the time but I’d really… She cut me off.
“You have VERY large hair don’t you?” I felt my hand instinctively reach up and touch my wild curls. I went to answer that yes, I do but before I could, she cut back in and said ‘We’ and with that she turned and directed her gaze towards a group of doppelgangers wearing black Lycra, “can help you make it more, err, more manageable, calm it down a little, make it smoother, you know?”