The Worst Mum!

It grieves me to say this was me today.

Today is Roald Dahl day so my little boy’s school decided to celebrate by asking all the kids to come to school dressed as characters from one of his books.  So, all week I’ve been mentally playing around with this, putting some ideas together, doing the research, asking my son who he would like to be, that sort of thing.  I had my suspicions that he would probably go for Mike Teevee from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Anyway, I dropped him off at Breakfast club this morning and was mortified to see a Oompa Loompa walking along the lane.  Yikes!  It’s today!  I totally forgot!  

I felt sooo bad but I managed to comfort myself throughout the day by telling myself that there wouldn’t be that many who had bothered to make the effort – that there would be plenty of other undressed-up kids in their uniforms.

When I collected him tonight it was a very different and utterly mortifying story.   Teacher opened that door and the first person to appear was Mike Teevee.  Then another Mike Teevee.  Then a Verrucca Salt followed by a Giant Peach.  Oh and lookie over there!  Willy Wonka himself strutting along.  There were even some golden tickets floating around – real life, walking, talking golden tickets.  And witches.  Lot’s of witches.  By this time, I was slowly sinking into the deepest depths of humiliation.   I was even too cowardly to make eye contact with any of the other parents, who were all chatting animatedly about the characters.  They were gasping and clapping at the kids and complimenting each other on the costumes (because let’s face it, it’s the mum’s who make all the effort with these things). 

Me?  I was hiding behind a corner of degradation, trembling with dread at seeing my poor deprived child appear at the door.   

And yes, when he walked out, he looked crushed.  My heart dropped.  Head hanging low, feet dragging, he made his way towards me through the crowds of fictitious little people and, as if to twist the knife of shame even tighter, he informed me in a low and sad voice – without even looking at me, that . . .  “every single person in my class was dressed up except me.”

We got home and he went straight to his room.  He was in there for about half an hour when I decided to brave it and go in to him.  He was busy making a cane out of food boxes and kitchen roll and a waistcoat out of an old brown shoe bag.  I asked him about them and he told me it was Willy Wonka’s cane and waistcoat.  I then said . . .

Are you going to take them to school tomorrow to show your teacher?”

Sigh.  No, I’m just gonna save them for the next Roald Dahl dayAnother sigh

Ye great gods of self-loathing!    I really hated myself. 


12 responses to this post.

  1. Kids really have such the richest primary school life these days it’s unbelievable. African drum workshops (a bit common down ‘ere), Kurdish dance at assembly, all sorts of plays that visit. Never ceases to amaze me.

    Maybe regards your sons dress-up day you had other things on your mind. The Samaritans possibly?


  2. As far as I can see from here, there is an undeniable thing between you and your children and that is real love. If your child is sure of that then that you have forgotten to dress him up has no vital importance.

    What parents must always do – regardless of any commercialisation of customs – is to imbue their children with their unmeasurable love.


  3. Matt, yes they certainly are culturally richer and school is much more fun now. And inclusive.
    I have been distracted lately and you’re probably right that the Samaritans have been on my mind amongst other things. But I always said that my family comes first and if it starts to affect my home life I will quit. Great start huh! And that’s before I’ve actually started!
    Jose, thank you. He got up at 6am to finish his Willy Wonka costume but he seems to be his happy self again. I got my morning hug and kiss so all is well.


  4. I’m sure you felt (feel) terrible, but your child will forgive you. It seems like a good idea for you to do the same. Love, Helen


  5. And… you know what, earthpal, perhaps what was forgetfulness on your part might unknowingly to you has served your little son to learn a new lesson, and I can see he did: next year HE will remind you, because children must learn to be conscious of their own lives, perks and duties. And their memory at that age is fantastic.


  6. Thanks Helen. You’re right. xx
    Jose, yes that is a very good point. My friend at work said something very similar to me.


  7. Aren’t these bloggers wonderful earthpal, how they let you off the hook! 🙂


  8. Heheh. Yes, you’ve definitely helped me clear my conscience.


  9. well, I know how you felt. I have forgotten about birthday parties more than once. We usually head across to the party girls house with the present we were intending to give and a big apology. It’s hard sometimes. Now my kids take responsibility and remind me about these things. Today was footy day and they were all dressed up in their team colours and ready to inform me that I didn’t have to make their lunch this morning because I’d already filled in the footy lunch order form. Did I remember this on my own? NO.


  10. Cheers Binds. Glad I’m not the only one who forgets. It’s usually worse once a month.


  11. Forgets everything!


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