You'd Be Lucky To Have Her

You might not guess it, but I am actually the product of a private school education. Yup, bowler hats in summer, ties in winter, dead sexy lace up shoes, we had the works. At the time our local public high school had a bit of a reputation for kids getting beaten up at lunchtime so my parents made the decision that we would be sent to an all-girls school.

These days I am lucky enough to live in a corner of Perth where the local high school is pretty fantastic, so assuming that it doesn’t become a den of depravity before 2024 (when Baldy Baby starts high school), I am happy enough for the Bombshell, Mop and Baldy to go to the local public school.

However, since you never know what the future holds, I thought I would put the girls’ names down on the waiting lists of a few of the nearby private schools, including my alma mater (see, private education!).

I had been a bit tardy putting Baldy’s name down, so finally, with no more excuses left, I sat on the rug with the baby, gave her the TV remote to chew, while I called the schools to request their enrolment forms.

This is how one of the conversations went:

‘Oh hello. I was hoping you would be able to send me an enrolment form for my daughter, please’.

Baldy Baby chooses this exact moment to start warbling in her zombie queen of the undead wail.

‘Arghhhhhhh-ooooo-wawawawawawaa-eeeeeeeee’.

‘Oooh,’ said the very prim lady. ‘Is that her.’

‘Sure is,’ I say proudly.

‘Pwwwwthhhhhhhhhht’ farts the baby. ‘Eeeeeeeeeeee.’

‘And, uh, how old is she?’ I could imagine this woman praying silently that this wasn’t a nutter ten year old with control issues being sent to her posh school to be sorted out.

‘She’s nine months old,’ I told her.

‘Oh. Wonderful,’ she said, plainly reassured.

‘Bleuughhhhh’ vomits the baby on the rug, followed by a hacking cough.

‘She sounds lovely,’ said the woman, probably having a stroke.

‘You’d be lucky to have her,’ I told her.

She paused just a second too long before laughing falsely. 'I'm sure she'll be just wonderful.'

'Arghhhhhhh,' screamed the baby. Then a tell-tale silence. Then the unmistakable sound of a nappy being filled.

‘You’d be lucky to have her,’ I thought.