Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 (33 page)

Much talk at the gates this morning about cakes, cookies and goodies that mothers were going home to prepare for delivery tomorrow.  Of course there was also, “Oh, I’ve just left it to the nanny.  She makes a fantastic Lithuanian Nut Crunch, which I’ve told her to do without the nuts.  Don’t want to get sued do we?”

And then Lydia-Boss-Lady came in with, “I bought Olga an organic packet mix.  She’s far too dim to follow a recipe and she can just pop it in the oven while she’s cooking her final batch of pizzas.”

Went home to knock up a couple of dozen Moist Muffins and a Victoria Sponge - a very enjoyable morning, regardless of the lack of staff.

Friday 14
^th
November AM

Fair set-up!

Fenella and I arrived at the school armed with rolls of cellophane, ribbons, bows and price tags ready to start work on our cake stall presentation - “You vill conform, little muffin!”

Thankfully there was no assembly so we had the entire main hall to work in, only interrupted occasionally by mothers or nannies dropping off their contributions.

We were working quite happily and methodically, gradually beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel, when Gestapo arrived in full gym kit and huge shades.  She was brandishing a box of cakes she’d obviously picked up at the local deli, mumbling, “Too bloody busy,” and “Far nicer than home-made anyway.”

As she was leaving, she dropped the bombshell.

“Off to get battered by the personal trainer now.  Oh yes … almost forgot.  The nanny brigade have finished the pizzas but they won’t be around for bagel preparation or crèche duties tomorrow.  Silly bitches have decided to go to Brighton for the weekend - we’d fire them if we could, but how could we replace them at such short notice?  Anyway, sure you’ll sort something out.  Ciao!”

Had to stop Fenella from chasing after her with a roll of cellophane, when all I really wanted to do was join her in battle.

Sat in silence for a couple of minutes, weighing up the implications of what had just been said.

Fenella spoke first, “No, sod it!  They’re not going to dump this on us.  They agreed to take on the food and even talked us into having the menu
they
wanted so they can bloody well get on with it.  It’s not our fault the nannies have upped and left - and bloody good luck to them,
I
say.  Although, I’m frankly surprised at Olga for not letting on to us.”

At that same moment I received a text:

I SO SORRY. I JUST FIND OUT BOUT WOT OTHER NANNIES DOING. COWS NOT INVITE ME TO BRIETON. I CAN HELP U.  OLGA

Poor Olga, the only nanny left behind and she was still willing to help us out.

We compiled a carefully worded text back to her thanking her for her offer but telling her we thought she should let Lydia-Boss-Lady know that she wasn’t going to help if none of the other nannies were. The rest, we would sort out.

Easy as pie!   Aaaaaggghhh!

PM

What a day - am just about dead on my feet and still have tomorrow to get through.

We knew we wouldn’t get hold of Gestapo after she left the school this morning -  there was no way she would keep her mobile on during a session with her personal trainer - so Fenella decided to call the Gnome.  I sat in dumb-struck awe, as she calmly but firmly told her, “As your original plan to use your nannies seems to have fallen through, the remainder of the preparation will need to be taken on by your team.  I’m sure you’ll remember your ideas and projections were received with great excitement by the majority of the mothers at the meeting and it would be such a dreadful shame to let them down - not something one would want to be remembered for.  We’ll relieve you of your setting up duties at the school tonight so that you’ll have more time to organise yourself - 600 bagels might take you a while. Ciao!”

It was pure poetry in motion  - she didn’t stop to draw breath, giving the Gnome no opportunity to refuse. Gosh, think we may finally have hardened ourselves.

Then we made an executive decision to do away with the crèche - you take your babies, you look after them.  Simple.  It’s not as if it was a profit making scheme anyway - in fact we’d also save on the nanny fees so it was no skin off our noses.

Had to laugh when we saw the food team as we went in later to start on the set up after school pick up.  Gestapo was sniffing her brand new acrylics and complaining that she’d never get rid of the smell of smoked salmon and she’d swing for the nannies on their return.

Setting up went smoothly, with the help of a few devoted mothers who were quite happy to muck in  and get the job done - Sarah and Eva included. They’d stayed true to their word and organised fantastic games for the kids and were invaluable to the general organisation.

The stage is now prepared and we’re ready for action.  Quick glass of celebratory Chardonnay, a ciggie and then bed.

Wonder if Gestapo still stinks?

Saturday 15
^th
November

Christmas Fair!!!

Up at the crack of dawn to make myself look vaguely Manor Housey for the day ahead.  Decided on jeans, boots and a long knitted coat, as I knew I’d be constantly back and forth from the school hall to the playground.

Max was beside himself with excitement - going to school on a Saturday
with
Mummy and Daddy.  Boy, it doesn’t get much better than that for a five year old.

Left the boys to finish their breakfast and set off for a final check before we opened the school doors.

Fenella was already there, looking gorgeous in a full-length suede coat and killer heels. “I know I’ll regret them later but they make me feel so much more in control when, really, I’m bricking it!” She giggled nervously.

Nic & Rick arrived early with their boxes of salt dough figures and handed them over to the mummy in charge.  They then set up their face-painting and took the opportunity to have a quick look around the other stalls.  Think I spotted Nic buying a beautiful hand-made necklace - just the sort of thing he knows I’d like for Christmas. (I hope!)

Pritesh dropped off Mrs S with all her jars and bottles and said he’d be back to collect her later.  “Maybe we could have a quick drink together, Libby?  As a way of thanking you for all you do for Mum?”  He did that cheeky winky thing again as he left Mrs S arranging her wares and humming a Bollywood version of ‘Bermuda Triangle’.

Fenella giggled and went off to buy us some mulled wine to steady our nerves - 9am, must be a record.

Before we knew it, it was opening time and the rest of the day passed in a blur of problem solving, filling in on stalls when people didn’t show and being general dogsbodies.

HIGHLIGHTS OF THE DAY

Gestapo and Co arrived looking less than their usual groomed selves - the bagels had clearly taken their toll and it didn’t look like much sleep had been had.  Thank heavens for Touche Éclat!

Ned loved every minute of his FC stint and had to be told twice that his time was up and he needed to ‘feed his reindeer’ (hand over to the next volunteer Dad).

Nic and Rick painted the faces of 130 little darlings, whilst putting up with the rudeness of mothers in the way that only homosexuals can.  Heard Nic mumble to Rick that one miserable little brat had exactly the same slapped arse face as its mother but he then turned to the mother and simpered sweetly, “My, we can see where she gets her looks from, can’t we?”

Mrs S completely sold out and her pickles were declared a triumph.  She also got several orders and was quite the belle of the ball.  Despite saying
very
loudly to me, “Oh Libbybeta, so many pretty women but such very ugly souls.”

Took another 100 or so orders for cookbooks - we’ve succeeded beyond our wildest dreams and were complimented non-stop.  There was even talk of us taking over CCL fundraising full time but Fenella and I feigned deafness - we needed to recover from our current ordeal and have a chance to think about it.

Ned and Josh were roped in to do the final stint on the food as Gestapo and Co had failed to draw up a complete rota.  Our men-folk took it on themselves to reduce the price of the remaining food as it seemed daft to be stuck with it.  The Gnome was horrified and tried to stand up to them - hmmph! Ned explained that it was better to get
something
for the stock, even if it only meant covering their costs.  She spluttered and stuttered a lot and then went off in search of Gestapo for back-up.  When they returned, Gestapo told Ned they could, “Do what you like with the effing food.  I’m just glad the whole dreadful ordeal is over.  Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m off to spend some money.”  Ned and Josh then spent a very enjoyable half hour, ‘helping with the leftovers’.

Could see our funny money being spent at a ridiculous rate of knots - even the kids were clutching handfuls of it and rushing feverishly from stall to stall, game to game and parting with their cash.  Can’t wait to see the final tally-up. 

The competitiveness of the parents during the raffle was tangible - probably the first time they’ve ever managed to stay quiet for longer than a couple of minutes.  That was until somebody won a prize and the others felt aggrieved.  Then, all you could hear was lots of “Oh well,
there’s
a surprise!” or “God, how many prizes did that family win
last
year?”  Considering Fenella and I were well aware that some families had bought in excess of a hundred tickets, I guess it does change the odds slightly!

BIGGEST HIGHLIGHTS

It’s over!

We survived and it was a huge success.

Gestapo and the Gnome still stink of salmon - Nic and Rick told me.