It was Winter Solstice here in Perth the other day and the weather was rather obligingly non-English. Hooray for lots of reasons, one being laundry and another being outside play for Lady M.
I had hoped for a present upon his return and my hoping was not in vain. He did indeed bring a present. A present of half a rotisserie chicken. My brother-in-law will quite literally wet his pants laughing when he hears about that.
Anyway, all this meant that I was able to fulfill my duties as an unambitious and unimaginative stay-at-home mum (as the always wise Cherie Blair has been very rudely calling us) and do some laundry, housework and cooking (and blog-reading of course). I also rammed in a trip to the library where I picked up 'Room' by Emma Donoghue and 'The Marriage Plot' by Jeffrey Eugenides.
Now, I realise I am, as usual, late to the party with both these books but given the smallness of the fiction section and their seeming inclination towards the crime genre, these were the only two that really jumped off the shelf at me. I'm thinking 'Room' first (although I still have 39% of 'Northanger Abbey' to power through. Still not an Austen fan. I've tried, I really have).
Whilst at the library, we were told that StoryTime was on soon so Lady M and I duly trotted off to the children's room and perused some books whilst we waited for it to begin. Books chosen and sitting nicely with the other kids and mums (and a dad. Good on you, lone Dad) whilst the library lady began her spiel, one child hurled himself to the floor and began screaming and crying whilst his mother calmly looked on and the rest of us strained to hear the library lady's explanation of which books were going to be read over incredible rage of the angriest kid in WA.
Now, whilst I am all for letting your child tantrum it out and get over it, I would have removed Lady M from the library and had her calm down outside, returning if (big if) and when she was quiet. But not so this ballsy mum. No sirree. She let him wail and shout the entire time the poor library lady was reading and singing. He screamed through Twinkle Twinkle, sobbed all over 'The Hungry Caterpillar' and rampaged during Baa Baa Black Sheep. All the while, Lady M stared at him aghast, wondering (possibly) what he was finding so heinous about StoryTime. Or, most probably, thinking how the hell was he getting away with such behaviour and should she try it out next time.
Note to Lady M: Do not try this as your mummy is not so tough that she can teach you that tantrumming will not get you your own way even when you are in public. Not even when you are in a library - a sanctuary of quietness and respect. Not even when you are RUINING StoryTime for ten other children and their poor suffering parents. She will get you the eff out of there quicker than you can stuff five Tim Tams into your mouth when she's not looking.
And do you know what this joyous child's name was? Damien. I'm not even joking.