Of course they daren’t say it too loud because it’s going to ruffle some feathers…
And for God’s sake don’t tell Emily…I mean you can if you want. Do say it to Emily, actually. Only don’t say it came from me, ok?
If it’s about the Wednesday tennis…
It’s not. It’s a bit more serious than that.
It’s about — Emily. Well. Girls like Emily. All the “working” mummies out there, expecting us to take the consequences while they scuttle away to their oh-so-important meetings. They pack their kids off to school no matter what. And whereas before the kid might have had nits or a cold, now it’s likely it’s going to be…
Next thing, the whole class goes down with it…Then the whole school — and then…
A Worldwide Pandemic!
Just so Mum can go to her blessed “meeting”!
Emily says she only goes to an office so she can dress up in super smart clothes. I think she was joking. But still…
Sorry. To be a killjoy. But in the current climate, I’m not finding that terribly funny.
I’m all for women “making their own choices”…
But it makes you wonder why some of them even bother to have kids.
Don’t get me on it, Sarah!
Meanwhile, they’re telling the mums-to-be to stay inside.
Well…I think that sounds very sensible.
Better than sensible, I’d say…Anyone trying to get pregnant, in the current climate, is an absolute idiot. Don’t you think?
And pretty selfish, actually. There should be a sort of moratorium on procreational sex.
On sex, full stop.
HAHAHAHA! No comment!
To be serious though, just for a minute. They should be telling the working mothers to stay at home like pregnant women.
They won’t. They wouldn’t dare…It’s the same with the breastfeeding. Everyone coming out saying they hate it. What about the kids?
They get forgotten in all this, don’t they?
As I say, I’m all in favour of women’s liberation and everything…
You’ve got to draw a line…You going anywhere for Bank Holiday?
Apparently they’ve got these funny thermostat-y thingies at airports now. They’re turning people away if they suspect a fever…
But the trick is, you pour a bottle of Calpol down the kids’ throats, and make sure you swallow a load of paracetamol. Because otherwise…Everyone else out of town, and you’re stuck in London with three sick, screaming kids…
No way, José!
My thoughts exactly.