162. Husbands (3)

I was to be away for two days. One night. I really really did not want to be away from home for what seemed unreasonably long. I know now this was ridiculous but my daughters were so young and I was still in the new mother mood and the crazy parenting style (tiger mum, pushy mum, helicopter mum - you name it - I was it) was probably what made me react this way.

‘I’ll be all right! Don't be silly! What makes you think I can't cope? Mothers should really have more confidence in fathers.'

That comment shocked me. Maybe he was right, maybe mothers turned into control-freaks the minute they'd given birth and become some kind of super-hero. 

I packed my bags, booked my tickets and I knew deep down that I would probably be enjoying this. After all two days away without constantly looking at my watch to see if it was feeding time, sleeping time, story time, arty time and goodness knows what else time might do me the world of good. I grabbed a novel from the bookshelf and shoved it in the case before shutting it. I would even find the time to read.

Before I left I took a tour of the house to make sure everything was ready and in order. In the bathroom I put the girls' toothbrushes and toothpaste out by the sink where no-one could miss them. I laid out their PJ's in full view on their beds, stretched out like some sort of flat scarecrows. I got out the clothes they would wear for school  Simple no-frills clothes: tee-shirts, cardigans and elasticated-waist jeans. Socks and trainers with Velcro scratches. Anybody could cope with the tasks ahead. The school bags were downstairs by the door, their snacks already tucked in there. 

When I left, I felt I had really been unreasonable and so unfair towards my husband. He was right I needed to give him more space. He too needed to bond with his daughters. 

When I called that first evening ever without my daughters (lying on my hotel bed, glass in one hand, remote control in the other) I felt elated. The girls sounded over the moon too. They were getting their evening meal ready and it sounded like junk food galore. I let them blabber on about it thinking about my own dinner in the hotel restaurant and the drinks at the bar afterwards. I did not even wince when they said daddy would allow them a bit of TV time after dinner.

'Make sure you brush your teeth before bed!'

I was smiling when I put the phone down. My husband had sounded relaxed and happy. In the morning I got a picture of the girls outside the school gates and they were smiling. There seemed to be something odd about them but I could not quite figure it out. During the morning coffee break I looked at that photo again. The eldest seemed to be wearing a skinny cropped pair of jeans and a close-to-the-skin top. The youngest was sporting a grunge style: baggy jeans and loose oversized tee-shirt. The style seemed to suit the girls and to perfectly match their personality. Had the three of them been on a shopping frenzy?

The following Monday I walked the girls to school. The teachers greeted me with a wider than usual grin. I, suddenly uneasy, enquired about the past few days.

They burst out laughing. 

Noticing my puzzled look, they stated to explain the matter. The clothes had not been properly matched to the child and once the teachers had noticed they had got the girls to undress and swap. They had not bothered telling my husband. He did not even notice something was different when he'd picked them up. The girls had moaned and complained but he'd just brushed it aside, saying they were late enough as it was and thinking they were just hyper precocious about fashion statements.