A weekend away ….

“Gemmi, Angy, my darlings come along, we really must get home, the horses need feeding AND we need to get you two to tennis, AND I promised I’d make your father his favourite meal.” The woman looks as if she bathes in Joules, blonde hair, sunglasses protecting her scrutinizing eyes from the ray of sunlight edging its way through the black clouds. Her gilet protecting her from the poor … oops I meant the weather!

She pivots on the spot, shouting in all directions, as if her two children weren’t standing directly in front of her. The beauty of Matlida Goodhead (the name is entirely misleading) was known to every mother in the playground. Mainly due to this rehearsed and recycled display of motherly devotion. I, being a new addition to the afternoon pick up routine enjoyed the show. I even considered placing a 20p into her Modalu handbag. However, I believe a woman like that is paid in attention, and she got plenty of that from me. At one point I got out my Walkers crisps and just stared, like people do when they go to the zoo and a gorilla starts scratching its arse.

Of course no Alpha, middle class, stay at home mother is anything without her posse of equally middle class stay at home mothers. I introduce you to Lilian Lingus and May McCock (terrible names, and equally terrible teeth). Lillian is fashioning Crew, you’d think she’d been on an afternoon hike, ‘Oh well you know the usual, Waitrose, the bottle bank, came home fed the Labs, cleaned the kids rooms, and now back at school, I couldn’t face the gym today!’ She looks over at this point to see the reaction of her two cage mates. Matilda pushes her glasses down her nose, bows her head, and raises an eyebrow. The desired effect is immediate; Lillian blushes, looks down and punishes herself for the doughnut and Starbucks coffee she allowed herself to indulge in! The lashing I’m sure will come later. May can see that Lillian’s suffering will be eternal and feigns distraction by smiling at her delightfully rotund child.

Mrs McCock is sporting a Barbour jacket, Chanel sunglasses and a Waitrose bag for life, she begins her speech “I’m terribly concerned about the environment. We recycle!! I always use my bag for life.” She launches the bag up into the air, both hands enclosing the long lasting material. The entire playground of mothers arch their necks and squint their eyes, as the rays of sunlight hit the bag for life. Even Simba didn’t get this much attention! You can almost hear Elton John’s ethereal voice in the wind. Then the squeaky voice of May returns “Eco- friendly cleaning products! Terribly important.” She later washes her bed sheets at 60, but vows to not use the car for three days.

You may be asking yourself, where do such women exist? I found this common creature in the town of Henley, Henley on Thames. Most famously known for the University boat race. Oxford and Cambridge battle it out on the high seas, fighting against the tide, using the strength of highly intelligent men against the raging waves of nature. In reality I fear that it’s less Battle of the Titans and more The Adventures of Tink Winky, Dipsy, Lala and Po. I also imagine that tradition causes the influx of spectators, rather than genuine interest. So Henley (on Thames) is posh, posh, snor. Beautiful, but dull! The most exciting incident to happen is when Marg, the neighbourhood nutter (Yes even Henley on Thames has one), is allowed out of her cage and attacks family bike rides, who have the audacity to occasionally slip on to the pavement. The police have been called and they sedated the situation with some forceful words and powerful head shaking.

I do wonder if we spent less time judging each other and more time helping one another maybe the world would be a better place. But then again I’d have nothing to write my blog about! Every cloud!