Read the Instructions Mum

Monday was not a good day. It had all the ingredients to be a good day. Kids at daycare and tennis camp (fancy word for daycare for older kids) after 3 weeks of solid family time. Mr Woog wondered why by 7.30am i had the kids in the car ready to go.

I was going to hit up the shops in town, visit the Apple Store so the geeks can teach me how to turn my new iphone on and return the revolting shirt my monther in law gave me for Xmas.

I parked the car outside of Daycare to find the playground full of workmen. I do not see any kids or teachers. Panic.

The door was locked.

Ring the bell.

Staff member comes to the door to inform me that there was a staff development day and the centre opens Tuesday.

My first instinct was to run – leaving behind JW. They would have to look after him for the day. THey could not call me, as i do not know how to use my phone.

After saying “You are kidding me” thirty times and asking whether any other parents clearly do not read the newsletters, my hopes for my dream day were dashed.

Spent ANOTHER day with JW and his thousand questions, back to back episodes of Dora and looking at the fucking ugly shirt.