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Eggs, Plasters and the School Run


A shuffle through breakfast and out the door in good time

We leave at 8.10 and have half an hour to slaughter in Lewes. As we left home I put a packed of plasters and some tweezers in my bag. TBT fell as we left the car. The plasters were handy. His ‘egg’ that he is supposed to look after for the week is smashed, so gets the plaster treatment too.

Zozo shoots off, TBT panics

He doesn’t need to say anything, he grips me tight, clings to me monkey like. A tight grip that doesn’t loosen as kids are left by parents, doesn’t loosen as Mrs Philips settles them on the carpet for registration, doesn’t loosen when his name is called out. Yesterday when he went off with the Registration book he told me I could go, today he made it very clear that I had to wait. So I did. When he went to the toilet a little later, I waited. When it was time for P.E. I helped him undressed and dress hidden behind Mrs P’s white board and when they went into the playground I followed at a discrete distance (but he wouldn’t join in). Afterwards I help him dress and then, only then, he dismissed me. Mrs P is okay with this.

I feel scrambled

Well scrambled, worse than scrambled, the egg is partially cooked and has the consistency of spunk and snot. There is eggshell in it too, bits of me cracking up in the car, not able to settle down to write, not able to go for a swim although I am in the Lewes Leisure Centre car park weighed down with all the required accoutrements for the day. I speak to Wanda, then I swim. It is paid for, even if I just get wet. Which, given the crowd of middle aged and older ladies screw kicking their way up and down the pool is all that I do. Eighteen lengths. Though unhealthy I find it remarkable that I can lift my arms into a front crawl at all. I don’t push it. Six lengths warm up, six lengths alternate legs only and arms only then six lengths to wind down. I feel better for it.

Collect TBT. Full of joy to see me

To the Grange with Cary and Theo. Then to swim with Phil(ip) and Joe(seph). Finally to collect Zozo, who is tearful because she dropped her egg, three times, the ‘egg’ that represents and orphaned child that she is supposed to be looking after for the week. The back road to Seaford is blocked, we double back.

Once home we have Jan’s card to post

We have Zozo’s bike to fix for TBT. I use the excuse to buy beers, six cans of Kronenbourg for £5 is too good to resist. On the way home Zozo comes off her scooter and scrapes skin from her chest the size of a 50p piece. She is upset until she sees it in the mirror and is fascinated by it.

They stumble through kids’ TV, that no longer works as kids TV, broken up with too much daytime TV. Bangers and mash. I drink my beers and water the garden.

The kids in bed I talk too much, dehydrated from the swimming the beer has gone to my head.

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