MotherSoup

Much has been made in the news recently of the romantic/profligate activities of Prince William, landing a Chinook helicopter on his girlfriend’s lawn. I’m not looking for a grand gesture, but Fathersoup, who has a very fleeting knowledge of military aircraft from his life Before Me, squinted along the garden and announced that if I wanted a Chinnok there, its footprint would probably fit. However, it would never be able to land without demolishing our home, so the helicopter would have to be dismantled and brought into the garden, through the house, in bits and reassembled. Oh, and the trees and garden walls would have to come down. At this point I demurred, though I guess it would keep the buzzards off.

I doubt that Kate Middleton’s garden is the size of ours, and I guess it helps that Wills has had some training in hitting small targets. I wonder if his trainer has a creche and would take me for a quick refresher? Getting Offspring to school is my Achilles’ heel once again. I have an Offspring who is, on account of their tender years, expected to be escorted and attended by an adult until the school bell rings in a morning. If this was like catching a bus, or indeed, getting to work on time, I doubt I’d have a problem: turning up a wee bitty early is not usually an issue. But it’s Not Done to arrive at school too early, when your Offspring is obliged to stand alone and friendless in a windswept empty playground. And it’s certainly not acceptable to arrive after the doors have closed and your child is obliged, solo, to run the gauntlet of the school’s Late Admissions Process. No - you’ve got to hit that tiny target in the middle: not too late, not too early, with crew and required equipment intact, regardless of weather conditions, and come out of it, for preference, looking like Kelly McGillis in Top Gun.

Me - I look more like one of the flight crew from Stop the Pigeon. I always had a sense of empathy for the one hiding in his clothes.