The Lunch

The lunch today was with my step mother. For those of you who have never had the pleasure meeting my step mother let me tell you that she has never had an ounce of slummyness in her life. She is elogance and poise personnified and she is dead posh. But without the snobbery that that could entail. So here I am. Pouring buckets after running after my SSC and SSD and, quite frankly, wondering when the Yummy part of Mummy will ever begin. I haven't seen a razor in months. Nor the gym. Nor make up for that matter. My life is about being a cook, a cleaner, a nanny and a dog trainer. Oh, and wearing trainers. But today I'm going for a wedding consult with a woman that never has baby milk on her blouse, that is never out of steam, and that is - quite frankly - beautiful. So, here goes. I have some very adorable sandles with spikey bits on them and a very lovely white shirt and some vaguely clean jeans that just about amount to an outfit. Of course when we meet she takes no notice of any of my atire and is far too interested in the best things in life. "God I have such a hangover, did you see the ins and outs of last night!". And so we're off. No wedding consultation takes place. But we laugh and condemn and get excited about politics. She doesn't even get to vote anymore - she's lived abroad for far too long. Let's face it, I don't get to do this often. Drink, eat and not be a Slummy trying to be a yummy Mummy. And when we leave I realise as much as I want to be a Yummy Mummy, and I may come out being a tad slummy - I'm not sure it really matters. We'll see.x