Not Quite Redundant

Of course I needn't have worried about the possibility of being a redundant mother.

Hubby thoughtfully decided to do a residential course this week, thereby ensuring that if I ever thought that I may no longer be useful in the parent department, that I wouldn't, so to speak.

It's quite tiring running our lot single handedly, so I do tend to fall into bed as soon as is manageable. When I am woken up from my comatose sleep by a call at 11.30 p.m. from ED, it is surprising that I actually register what is being said.

"Can you make sure that you call me at 6.30 a.m. please? I need to get a train, and I am worried I may not get up in time." "I was asleep" I moaned as I looked at the settings on the alarm clock and turned the light back off...

6.30 a.m. Called ED.

6.50 a.m. still couldn't get hold of her. Began to worry. Called Hubby.

"She must already be up." He said. There's no way she would miss her room phone. It's right next to her head".

The university has very kindly put room phones into the rooms. You can call in, but she can't all out. This means of course that she has two ways that parents can contact her. Well three actually, because I can still phone the university itself. And of course, I can email her, night and day. This is progress apparently. When I was a student I quite liked the fact that the only way that I could talk to my parents was via a call box. It would have had to be a dire emergency for them to call me via the college phones. And as a student that anonymity was possibly a benefit at times.

Meanwhile I was beginning to panic. It did also occur to me that I had dreamt the phonecall at 11.30 p.m...... Was I indeed going completely mental - as opposed to just a bit?

In the midst of getting other children up for school, making sandwiches and getting uniform sorted I kept calling her, alternating between her mobile and landline numbers. I ignored Hubby's advice, as my only thought was... she'll miss her train... By 7 a.m., I had just about decided that either she was sleeping eleswhere ( in which case WHY did she ask ME to wake her??!! ) or that she had left the room already and gone off to get an earlier train.....

I tried one more time...

"Hello?" said a very groggy voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear the phone..."

Your neighbours must have done though ED...

Sensible and Esos appeared downstairs, arguing, with Esos directing insults in both her and my direction. He accused her of suffering from PMT. "Your the one with PMT" she retorted. "That isn't actually physically possible, in case you didn't know", he replied in a smart alec type voice... to which I retorted that, maybe not, but that boys certainly had hormonal influence affecting them...... This wasn't a popular comment...

Finally they got on the bus. Rang ED again to check she had caught her train. Whilst she was talking to me the ticket inspector arrived to check her ticket. I heard mutterings. "No," I heard her say. "That's a return ticket."...........Except it wasn't.... the first half of the ticket was in the machine at the station.......

Made several phonecalls on her behalf.... And meanwhile she managed to persuade the ticket inspector to let her travel anyway on the basis that it was booked originally on the internet to be picked up at the station........

Progress again...... Do you remember when they had people at stations who passed you the correct tickets?

Roll forward two days. 7.30 a.m....... the school bus drives past the kitchen window. "Bye bye Esos and Sensible."

.... But no... they are still sitting in the kitchen.....

Into the car, coat over dressing gown and boots without socks. Drive to the next stop.......

Not quite redundant yet then.