I Can Breathe Again!

Yesterday I drove past Her house (I have to drive past it almost daily), hoping to see a 'For Sale' sign.

Sure enough, now that all the posh people have suddenly removed their children from Beloved Daughter's newly merged school, it appears that Her rather nice twelve year old daughter, who would probably have been Head Girl, is off to a smart school in Berkshire, and there is no longer any need for the family to keep up two mansions six miles apart.  So I hear She is moving to the Home Counties! Hurray! I won't ever have to see Her anymore I hope!

How incredible that in five years, what She has done has never been discussed or even acknowledged, let alone apologised for, despite our being thrown together several times a week, and now it never will be.  But a few baronets on, She appears to no longer have any proper home to go to, poor thing.  That's not counting Australia.  

Meanwhile Beloved Daughter finds herself being taught Latin by her favourite teacher in a class comprising her six rather clever best mates. She made me test her thoroughly on her Latin vocab for the first time ever, the other day, instead of leaving me to read the paper in peace while she OD'd on Disney Channel.  I'm not too concerned re her catching sex programmes, but I really need to learn how to work the Parental Control button to prevent her from being sucked any further into the world of loud canned laughter and cutesy American 12 year old boys with floppy fringes and checked shirts.

There have been other, less constructive changes at the school, such as the children being made to sing along to the piano a song called something like "I love brocolli", in preparation for Harvest Festival.  I'm afraid I just don't see this as an improvement on "Fight the Good Fight" to the stirring sound of the organ.  But by and large, I have never seen the school's remaining original teachers wearing wider grins, or cracking worse jokes!

Last Friday I ensured that I made the acquaintance of the new headmaster's wife, and then the overall new headmaster himself, who found himself stuck with me for 40 minutes. Where were all the other pushy parents I wondered, as I made more and more of a fool of myself, staring at his chest, remembering crying onto his predecessors one on several occasions.  Eventually I made my excuses, seeking out the new head of the junior school, only for him to run away from me as he did last time I tried that.  Not sure what it is about me.  But I think Ive scuppered any chances Beloved Daughter might have had of becoming Head Girl of the new school. Sorry old thing.  Pretend you don't know me.