As August draws to a close and many mums are celebrating the return of the school run and singing the praises of returning to a routine, I’m lamenting the lazy days of summer. My house has been a haven of peace and quiet since school closed in June. For two long months my beautiful daughter has jumped out of bed and danced into the kitchen with a bright smile on her face. There have been no aches or pains. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The last few days of the holidays are here and with them come the memories of how the school year begins chez moi. My darling daughter suffers from chronic schoolitis. My mum tells me it’s hereditary. She’s amazed that I don’t remember suffering from the condition. Very surprised actually! She claims there wasn’t a single day in my school life that I left the house without some ailment or other. “If it wasn’t your arse it was your elbow” are the words she uses.
I have to admit Mammy Byrne is dead right. I remember one incident very well. After dilly dallying long enough to miss the school bus and a lift from the weird neighbour I was full sure I’d succeeded in getting a day of school. Mammy Byrne was still in her nightie and dressing gown after all and Dad was thousands of miles away in the Lebanon. Result, or so I thought! I hadn’t counted on Mammy Byrne slipping on her nice woolly slippers and bundling my sister and I into the back of the car. Yes, it is true, it was Mammy Byrne who started the trend of doing the school run in nightwear way back in 1981.
Within ten minutes we were pulling up outside the school. Big sis hopped out and said her goodbyes to mum while I decided I was staying put. Sure what was she going to do? She was hardly going to get out of the car in her lovely dressing gown and slippers and drag me from it kicking and screaming. Big sis sensing trouble brewing made a dash for the school door. I sat tight believing that sooner rather than later mammy Byrne would get fed up shouting back at me to get out of the car and head home. How was I to know she’d enlist the help of a very old and feeble nun who just happened to be passing?
She jumped out of the car and opened my door. I was out of the seat in one smooth swift motion. Mammy Byrne is nothing if not quick! Before the nun knew what was happening I had been deposited in her care. In seconds she had been informed that I was uncontrollable. She was instructed to sort me out and that I wasn’t to be returned to Mammy Byrne until I was sorted out! With that mammy Byrne was back in the car and all that was left was a plume of dust. I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the nun.
So as August draws to a close I can honestly say I am not looking forward to the new school year but mammy Byrne has taught me many a valuable lesson. One of which is never, ever, do the school run in your PJ’s.