....exactly how can you be expected to start the day on the right footing when you leave the house to the sound of your daughter crying her heart out because she doesn't want you to go to work?
I won't even get into the subject of 'are you picking me up today, Mummy?' (the answer, nine times out of ten, is no........). Nor will I mention the total hysterical meltdown that occurred when Granny took her to her first French class (no, she won't be going back - have realised that too much can be just too much at that age).
Why didn't anyone tell me how hard this 'working Mummy' lark would be?
Oh, and can anyone tell me how to get rid of the stain produced by a Fruit Pastille ice lolly (it would be on her new dress, wouldn't it?)
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