The Misadventures of a Playground Mother Read Online Free PDF

spiel she had spun, to anyone that would listen, that gave us all the impression she was a successful high-flying business woman; there had been nothing high-flying about that flea-ridden chinchilla she had been sporting this morning.
    Not only would we have the likes of BB showing off her new gifts to anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with her but we’d also have the mothers who would enter the playground dressed in tight leggings, new trainers and headbands. They’d strut around wearing the latest Garmin watch, having downloaded the newest fitness app and raiding Tesco’s shelves for skipping ropes and dumbbells. Usually after a week, these mothers had broken all New Year's resolutions, had wasted their money on their new fitness regime, and returned to doing what they knew best, ladies that lunch. Their comfort zones would be fully restored while they sipped Pinot Grigio and slated anyone with a pulse at the Petty Tedious Army (PTA) meetings. Their usual meeting place was the quaint bistro on the outskirts of the village run by a husband and wife team. The charming restaurant is loved by all the locals, and has stood the test of time; it is still popular whilst other eateries have come and gone. It is a cosy, homely scene with low ceilings and huge fireplaces; hundreds of flickering candles light up the little nooks. It is a perfect combination for the PTA to conduct their meetings away from the noise of the bar.
    â€˜Would you children like to come down for cake and hot chocolate’ I asked.
    I was sure with the amount of additives they had already piled into their systems today that a few more wouldn’t do them any harm. ‘Little Jonny and Annabel are also here,’ I continued, ‘and will be staying tonight.’
    There was no denying that Matt had been fantastic today, he had supplied all visitors with cups of tea and snacks whilst cleaning up and now he had excelled himself with making up all the beds for our latest visitors.
    Gathering around the kitchen table, the children chatted and sat down at the table. Matt poured mugs of hot chocolate for everyone whilst Eva placed some token candles on the cake. Samuel was excited about lighting the candles, and with careful supervision, he struck the match and lit each one. The candles were now burning brightly. Matilda wrapped her arms around me and gave me a quick hug before plonking herself down on the chair and I balanced Daisy in my arms. I quickly planted a kiss on the tops of their heads. Samuel rapped his knuckles on the table while Matilda raised her finger to her lips and shushed everyone.
    Silence.
    Eva counted to three and everyone sang a joyful rendition of happy birthday.
    I can honestly say that, a few months back, if anyone had even suggested I would be spending my birthday with Penelope (we had had a big falling out the previous year), I would have thought they were very insane. However, there we all were standing in my kitchen like long lost friends. She watched me blow out the candles on my cake whilst I made my wish. I knew my wish wouldn’t be granted; the genie in my lamp was on annual leave, and it was too far-fetched to believe that Rupert would knock on the door and whisk his wife and children back home so they could all live happily ever after – or at least have a peaceful night. I was deeply annoyed with myself that I had wasted my wish.
    I sliced up the cake and placed the pieces onto the paper plates left over from the buffet the night before. ‘It’s sponge with homemade raspberry jam,’ I said, handing Penelope a plate. She hesitated, taking the plate from me but with her eyes firmly locked on a larger slice still on the table. Quickly she shoved the plate in her hand straight into the palm of little Jonny’s; it felt like we were playing pass the parcel. Grasping the bigger slice, Penelope completely devoured it in a couple of mouthfuls.
    After all the cake was consumed and