The Kick-Bollock Scramble Years Pt.2

They're even running on the sign

They’re even rushing on the sign…

The Kick-Bollock Scramble

Professor Brian Cox has yet to get back to me about the time warp. I’m not too bothered. He’d only start banging on about Entropy, and how everything in the Universe moves inexorably towards a state of disorder (if you saw my kitchen after breakfast, you’d have to agree).

But we don’t have time for Thermodynamics. It’s 8:52am and we’re in a Mad Rush. I know it’s 8:52 because the elder has got her shoes on the wrong feet and the younger has gone into her sister’s bedroom for a poo. Same time, same room, every day. It’s a ritual. I have to leave her soiled, even though the smell qualifies her as a bio-hazard. Coats! School bag! Scooter or buggy board? Scooter it is. For 2 minutes.
Then: “My leg hurts!” I load Madam onto the buggy board. Same spot, same street, every day. It’s a ritual.

We’re on the wrong side of the school bell as we reach the gate. I can live with that. As long as we get through before the stern-looking woman with the clipboard comes out. Once she guards the entrance, there’s no getting away with it.
So obviously, with mere seconds dividing sneaky success from clipboard humiliation, we run into the biggest obstacle. The Kick Bollock Scramble. There is only one gate into and out of my daughter’s school. and at 9:04 am, the  stragglers going in collide with the punctuals coming out. Imagine the Severn Bore going both ways. And made out of people. It’s like that.

Of course, it’s not complete bedlam. It’s mostly a case of forcing your way through whilst trying to look like you are waiting for a gap. But the pressure of the clipboard gets to everyone, eventually. Sometimes you’ve just got to put your head down and make a lunge for it.

Late again, UrbanDaddy?

Late again, UrbanDaddy?


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