361. Mum and the kids

Bip. A photo flashes on my phone. R21 has sent me a photo of her car perfectly reverse parked in the garage with the exactly same distance on the left and on the right. I wonder if I'll get the exact measurements in the next message.

'I'm making excellent progress at manoeuvring.'

If she can manoeuvre it means she can drive slowly now. Big sigh of relief on the parental side.

'I even took a friend to the country on Sunday and we went for a picnic and a hike. My friend said I drive really well.'

I'm trying real hard to make no comments here. Just praise.

'Well done!'

I'm thinking if she can drive this car well she can drive anything. Good learning curve. Maybe Baby could learn how to drive with the R21? Maybe I will get a go too. 

Home feels weird these days. Three of them at home full-time this summer. Baby (normal), our son (semi-normal) and Miss Organiser (not normal at all). She has resigned, and is moving out dumping more stuff in the poor chock-a-block family home and spending some time with us before disappearing at the other end of the globe. But mu husband has run away and is hiding in the little house by the woods. After spending a traumatic weekend in the passenger seat of the R21 he needed some time to recover. He's still there whether it is because he hasn't fully recovered yet, whether he is enjoying time on his own away from his boisterous family or whether he wanted to show me that he could spend a summer there I don't know. I am waiting to be released from my phantom duties at school to join him. In our family parents are keen to leave the nest ... 

'I think I might leave on Friday.' I tell the kids, to see what kind of reaction I get. 

'Oh! So soon?' Mock crying and mock drying of pretend tears.

One turns to the other.

'Free to plan that party.'

'Seriously mum, just go, dad is missing you. He keeps calling. Just go.'

'Unless you want to help with the move.'

That helps me make my mind up. No way I want to be around when these kids bring in the contents of a one-bedroom flat and take it across the garden and up to the barn's attic. And then I would have to feed the removal team. Better to run away asap.

My son has suddenly stops fooling around and asks in a worried voice.

'But will you leave us money for food?'

The state of the fridge is all that he cares about.