How To Get A Five Year Old To School On Time

Sometimes the universe makes up for all the crap we shovel on ourselves and gives up a bit of a laugh at someone else's expense.

Today, it was my darling [argumentative, petulant, sulky] five year old.

She was deliberately dragging her feet: she knew she was making us late for school.  She didn't care because she obviously thought (quite accurately) that I was quite powerless to do much about it.

As I ran through my list of threats, I hit upon a winner.  I would tell her teacher the real reason we were late for school. 

She didn't like that and within five minutes we were out the door.

She moaned Every. Step. Of. The. Way.

WHY were we walking? Her legs were soooo tired. Why couldn't we take the car like everyone else. Her toe hurt. She likes to sit down in the car. I was a mean mum.  No one understood her.

The bell had already rung when we were making the final push towards the school. Every step was torture as she ranted about how horrible and mean and bossy I was.

Then, in an excellent display of karma, the deputy principal appeared on the horizon, hurrying towards us.

Now, she was actually on the lookout for two year seven boys who had wagged school but that's not what the Bombshell thought.

I looked down at her and said that we were so late the deputy had come to look for her.

The deputy looked worried, then mentioned that she might need to make a call to the police [about the boys].

You can imagine what the Bombshell thought about that.  She looked at me with a newfound respect - that not only had I managed to inform the deputy but that the police might also get involved.

You can bet that next week we won't be late for school.