We are in terrible trouble. Bloggiana’s daughter has been going to school, nit-infested on a grand scale, and someone has rumbled us. The first I hear of it is when Bloggiana’s daughter produces a letter. It says Dear Mrs Bloggiana, We are disappointed to note that your daughter blah blah blah. Bloggiana has read the letter already and chosen this moment to de-cork the Pinot Grigio and swear heartily into the microphone that she imagines is plugged straight from our parlour into the head-teacher’s office. I don’t give a s*** about nits, she sings, already stumbling over her words after one swift but deep draught on the PG.
Next thing, Bloggiana is accosted by a fellow-mother as she goes to collect her daughter from school. I mean, the woman expostulates, the rest of us blah blah blah. Bloggiana shrugs her shoulders as politely as she can, turns on the expostulating woman – and stalks off, her daughter’s elbow firmly in her grip. One or two more letters follow. Dear Mrs Bloggiana Blah blah blah. Perhaps you would like to blah blah blah. Bloggiana almost has a nervous breakdown. Bad enough, she mutters, keeping the mice in the kitchen in the style they’ve become accustomed to. And so saying, Bloggiana glares at the imaginary home to school microphone. And hisses.
Simultaneously, our domestic hygiene arrangements are being called into question by someone altogether closer to home. She too is indignant about our walking wildlife situation and is threatening full-on loss-of-friendship. Bloggiana values said friendship and tries to laugh it off. I mean blah blah blah it’s not as though I invited the little darlings, she exclaims cheerily. This approach is all very well but her friend is not for laughing. Matters between the two escalate. Friend actually combs Bloggiana’s daughter and finds hundreds, nay thousands of the little darlings in Bloggiana’s daughter’s hair. Bloggiana when confronted is unable to volunteer any kind of sensible refutation of her guilt because there is none. Bloggiana remains entrenched in her position. I mean nobody died, did they?
Finally, Bloggiana’s whole nit-attitude comes to a head when Teacher of Junior School where daughter has attended since an early age comes and taps Bloggiana on the shoulder and says Mrs Bloggiana, I wonder if you would find this useful at all? Bloggiana squares up to the Teacher and finds that what is being brandished in front of her is a videotape. Nitz & How to Outwit Them, itz wittily named. Bloggiana seizes the tape, storms out of the school and heads straight for her therapist. On the way, she happens to pass an outdoor event. There are caravans, tents, cars, people. It must be some kind of civic extravaganza but Bloggiana is not too worried about the exact nature of the occasion. For she spots among the caravans a small pavilion marked Lakeland District Council Household Waste Management Team Roadshow. And she rolls down her window, picks up the videotape and hurls it in the general direction of a Lakeland District Council Recycling Enhancement Officer.
Next thing, Bloggiana is accosted by a fellow-mother as she goes to collect her daughter from school. I mean, the woman expostulates, the rest of us blah blah blah. Bloggiana shrugs her shoulders as politely as she can, turns on the expostulating woman – and stalks off, her daughter’s elbow firmly in her grip. One or two more letters follow. Dear Mrs Bloggiana Blah blah blah. Perhaps you would like to blah blah blah. Bloggiana almost has a nervous breakdown. Bad enough, she mutters, keeping the mice in the kitchen in the style they’ve become accustomed to. And so saying, Bloggiana glares at the imaginary home to school microphone. And hisses.
Simultaneously, our domestic hygiene arrangements are being called into question by someone altogether closer to home. She too is indignant about our walking wildlife situation and is threatening full-on loss-of-friendship. Bloggiana values said friendship and tries to laugh it off. I mean blah blah blah it’s not as though I invited the little darlings, she exclaims cheerily. This approach is all very well but her friend is not for laughing. Matters between the two escalate. Friend actually combs Bloggiana’s daughter and finds hundreds, nay thousands of the little darlings in Bloggiana’s daughter’s hair. Bloggiana when confronted is unable to volunteer any kind of sensible refutation of her guilt because there is none. Bloggiana remains entrenched in her position. I mean nobody died, did they?
Finally, Bloggiana’s whole nit-attitude comes to a head when Teacher of Junior School where daughter has attended since an early age comes and taps Bloggiana on the shoulder and says Mrs Bloggiana, I wonder if you would find this useful at all? Bloggiana squares up to the Teacher and finds that what is being brandished in front of her is a videotape. Nitz & How to Outwit Them, itz wittily named. Bloggiana seizes the tape, storms out of the school and heads straight for her therapist. On the way, she happens to pass an outdoor event. There are caravans, tents, cars, people. It must be some kind of civic extravaganza but Bloggiana is not too worried about the exact nature of the occasion. For she spots among the caravans a small pavilion marked Lakeland District Council Household Waste Management Team Roadshow. And she rolls down her window, picks up the videotape and hurls it in the general direction of a Lakeland District Council Recycling Enhancement Officer.
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