My daughter was in the car waiting for her sister and me, who were putting on our shoes to go to a riding lesson, and suddenly BLEURGH, she puked. I mean she got rid of everything she had eaten all day, soaked the carseat, soaked the floor mat, the carpet under the floor mat, the back of the front seat, you name it. It even ran down the seat and into the gap between the seat and the backrest of the car, and down into the bit where the seatbelt sticks out. Am I ever going to get the smell out, is what I want to know. I have scrubbed and spot treated and scrubbed again, and scrubbed with Basic H and scrubbed with Fresh Laundry and sprayed and dried and washed and scrubbed and sprinkled baking soda, and the miasma in the car is still formidable.
To top it all off, we got to the riding lesson, groomed the horse, tacked him, and then the instructor phoned to say she had an emergency and couldn’t make it.
I am bailing out – it is 8:15 and I am leaving the house to have coffee with my friend. Can’t stand it another minute – can’t stand being The Mum – the person who is in charge of cleaning up all the most unpleasant messes. Everybody’s peed pants, everybody’s accidental diarrhea toots, everybody’s vomit, everybody’s bloody noses are MY responsibility. Bad enough during the rest of the year - flu season is too much for me. I just can’t take it anymore. I need an hour away, and coffee, and maybe a stroll through a magazine section somewhere.
Here I am, beyond thrilled because I get to spend an hour and a half in Starbucks - my first coffee break in around 3 weeks. "Mum" is the grittiest job there is, and you've got hardly any sodding break from it.
But hey - at least it teaches you to be grateful for small mercies.