*I meant to post this in March... sorry it's late.
It was the Friday afternoon art class
and as we all filtered in and took our seats, the teacher announced,
“Now children I'm sure you're all aware it's Mother's Day on
Sunday... so today we're all going to make Mother's Day cards.” A
few of the kids put their hands up and said they'd already bought a
Mother's Day card, however the teacher responded by saying there's
nothing wrong with giving her two cards. On the board she drew an
example which we could copy, or choose another idea.
As we sketched, scribbled and stuck
yellow crepe paper to our cards, the teacher checked our progress,
asking if we were going to do anything special on Mother's Day.
Next to me sat Paul Dobson who just shrugged, claiming nothing
special would be happening at his house. The teacher suggested maybe
he should help her make lunch or something nice like that. Again he
shrugged.
“That's very nice Peter.” she said
looking at the gluey yellow mess of crepe paper splodged on my card.
“Maybe if we add a little...” she suggested, before mending my mess
and creating something which resembled the head of a daffodil. “And
will you be doing anything special on mother's day?” she asked.
“Erm...” I hastily replied, “Er....
my Granny will come to visit and she always bakes cakes and
scones...”
“That sounds nice... and will you be
doing anything special for your mother?” she replied.
“Er....” I gulped. “I'll help
granny serve the cakes and scones... and maybe help mum make
dinner.”
“Well that's very nice of you.” the
teacher replied before moving onto the next desk.
What I didn't tell my teacher is that as usual,
I’d spend the whole day wearing a pretty dress whilst pretending to
be the daughter my mother never had. Each year mum buys me a new dress and
each year she makes such a fuss over it. This year's monstrosity has
been hanging in my room all week and I'm dreading having to wear it.
