Wednesday, January 2, 2008

Oh God, it's nearly time for...( tense Hitchcock music plays dramatically)...The School Run.



I hate The School Run. It’s a wicked and cruel device inflicted by men who mainly drive to work ON THEIR OWN in their clean cars with relaxing music playing and pleasantly humming. Whereas us women are frequently left in such a state that we have to consume entire bars of chocolate on our return or in my case not able to do the housework until about 30 minutes before hubby comes home because I’m so stressed out. (Or possibly both….he… he…he) Of course I’m seriously worried about tomorrow when The Run begins again as I’ve given up chocolate as part of my New Year Resolutions… what am I to do? I may have to watch one of those abominable morning chat shows where some idiot admits having an incestuous affair with his sibling and doesn’t understand why it’s wrong.( On the other hand I’m not that stupid so maybe I’ll just watch a rerun of Starsky and Hutch instead.)
Now in one way or the other I’ve been doing the school run for 12 years because unfortunately I managed to conceive my children at irregular intervals; I have three sons aged 16, 9 and 6. I blame Mr Turley, of course, because as all women know anything to do with childbirth is ALWAYS a man’s fault. Anyway, it’s a long time to have been doing The School Run I can tell you and the end is not yet in sight. (Deep sighs of regret.) How many hours of my life is that? I’m not even going to calculate it because I might feel suicidal… especially when I consider the effect on my waistline.

Here are some of the reasons why I don’t like The School Run;

1.Well obviously it is preceded by the horror of having to get the children ready. I’ve learnt that it doesn’t make the slightest difference what time you get up YOU WILL NEVER BE READY TO LEAVE ON TIME. Or on the one in a million occasion you are indeed ready a relative (who should know better) will ring just as you are opening the door and ask you a banal, stupid favour. To which you will politely answer “Yes” when inside you are screaming “WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK I DO ALL DAY? SIT ON MY ARSE?”

2.The effect upon my car. “Car” is the wrong description really. Something like “A moveable object containing various degrees of litter, bags, balls (assorted), books, crayons, tennis rackets, karate suits, football boots, portable entertainment systems (i.e. swords, daggers, machine guns and bazookas) decaying food, non decaying food, clothes, drinks, small annoying children, large annoying children and an irate woman.” Yes, I pray to God that people will never ask for a lift so that I do not have to be subjected to the abject humiliation of admitting that my veneer of middle class sophistication is a complete lie.

Oh yes here’s a tip… when your child writes “Benedict Turley was here” in red felt tip pen on the leather seats you have a pretty good idea who wrote it….

3.I’m suffering from increasing road rage. Now you see I’m premenopausal which means I’m beginning to lose my patience with inconsiderate drivers. I also drive to school on a very dangerous road where there is plenty of room for boy racers to do as the please. (Which is of course makes it more dangerous.) Every morning I observe reckless overtaking, people on mobile phones and I’ve even witnessed one person with the newspaper spread out over his steering wheel. Nerd. Now I drive a Volvo estate which is comparable in car terms to a Panzer Tank and one of these days I’m just gonna blow a fuse and blitzkrieg one of those boy racers… in the meantime I look forward to the day when I am called into school and reprimanded for Master Benedict repeating some of my words that he may have regrettably heard like “One of these days arsehole I’m gonna ram you and your no good poxy little Renault Clio,” or “Outta my way you tosser!” Yes, I’m afraid The School Run has had a dire effect on my language. Pity, I’m such a polite gal really.

4.I have to listen to the radio. This is because within a week of getting my Volvo Master Benedict shoved Barry White’s Greatest Hits in the CD player and there it has remained. I’ve tweaked it, poked it, and cursed at it but it will not come out. If only Master Benedict had shoved in the Spice Girls at least I might have stood a chance of removing it…

Now I don’t mind the radio because it keeps me up to date with latest tunes and I can therefore pretend I am ten years younger but it also means I have to listen to THE ADVERTS which is like waving a red flag to a bull. When I am driving to school the only thing I am thinking of buying is an Uzi machine gun and the only thing I am planning is a divorce settlement… nothing else… so I wish they just quit trying to flog me stuff. Oh yes…and the children always talk over my favourite records or over the newsflashes. It’s very frustrating when you hear; “Sadly today…… blah, blah, scream, MUMMY, Ow! He pinched me. GET OFF!…….has died.”

WHO HAS DIED?
WHAT WAS THE WORLD CRISIS?
WHAT WAS ROBBIE WILLIAMS LATEST TUNE CALLED?

I give up; I’m destined to be ignorant on these important matters but if you want a list of satisfying chocolate please do let me know.

5.The School Run is the predecessor to the Return School Run which is closely followed by The Sports Club Run, The Extra English Run, The Extra Maths Run and various other Runs. All of which lead to the Lets Get Home So Mummy Can Open a Bottle of Wine and Get Drunk Run….. need I say that this last Run is the highlight of my day...

© Jane Turley 2008

5 comments:

  1. Oh my God will you be my new BBFF. Erma Bombeck could have taken lessons from you. I am ROFLOL until I WMP. I am going to read everything you have written as soon as I get my dry pants on.
    (<; (my DB tells me I do these emoticons backwards, but I am not about to change what makes sense to me)


    O.

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  2. Hi Onedia,
    Thank you very much for your generous remarks; I am flattered to be in anyway compared to Erma Bombeck! It is also very reassuring to know that my Britsh sense of humour can cross the Atlantic. I would be delighted to be your friend..communication is my purpose. I will now see what you are up to... your picture is very interesting...

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  3. Are you kidding, we glue ourselves to BBC America. I almost never watch American sitcoms (Bill Cosby is the exception) but we love the British ones and we get them years after you guys have seen them .

    You may wish to check our http://daddylikey.blogspot.com

    I call her the ErmaBombeck/Dear Abby of fashion and she is a rising young writer with cheek!

    O.

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  4. Is it too late to give my foetus back...my wife is going to hate me in a few years. Well, more then now anyway.

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  5. Now Mr Random Stranger I'm afraid it's just tooooo late! You bet your wife is going to hate you. The screaming and wailing is enough but as soon as they begin to move...AAAAAHHHHHH! I sincerely hope you have one of those children who don't crawl but just gets up and walks at 12 months... this delays the movement phase somewhat. Mine all crawled on a par with The Hamster Hammond. Head injuries were a major problem...and that was just from me banging my head on the wall in frustration....

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