Every morning, just a few minutes before 9.00 AM, you would find me dragging self and P up the cardiac hills of Brentwood, to land up in a heap in front of P’s school. We would arrive, breathless, dishevelled and at least in my case, wheezing like an age-old steam engine, while all around me will be the cool mums and dads, dropping their children off and taking off to work, gym or the coffee shop, without breaking a sweat.
Some of the moms are of the yummy-mummy variety – clad in designer togs and killer shoes, flawless makeup and superbly accessorized, they are the epitome of Superwomen. Some are athletic – they even come to school in their cropped, jogging bottoms and trainers to prove how fit they are. Then there are the biz types – pin-stripes, pencil skirts and formal, say bye bye, kiss kiss and off they go.
And then there’s me.
