A mother's wet afternoon

No. 1, no. 2 and I were drenched in the rain today, no thanks to some council workers pruning some tree branches.

We were already nearing no. 3's school when we got caught in a long queue at the traffic lights. The lights must have zonked out or maybe a car had stalled, I thought. It was neither. At the road shoulder, municipal workers were cutting down some tree branches which had got tangled up in the electric cables.

I don't understand though how the jam had come about. They had placed some traffic cones at the side of the road but they didn't obstruct the road. The felled tree branches weren't in the way either. Ggrrr...

As a result, no. 3 was five minutes late for school. Then on the way to no. 2's school, the heavens suddenly opened up and torrents of rain gushed down like a waterfall. I decided to stop a little distance away from the school so as not to get caught in the traffic jam. With each holding an umbrella, we should get across without getting too wet. Or so I thought.

Two-inch deep rain water ran down the road. No. 2's shoes were soaked. By the time we got to the school, our clothes were drenched. She gave me her umbrella and it was only then that I noticed that half the umbrella had folded up, and so had mine.

I went back to the car to wait for for no. 1 to dismiss from the same school. It was still raining but it was no point bringing the umbrella over to him. He called me from his friend's cellphone. I asked him to dash out when the rain subsided a little. Still, he got wet.

I drove to my mum's house nearby. (To drive home to get the dry uniforms would take me another half hour.) My aunt had given her some old school uniforms that her daughters had outgrown. They looked a tad too big for no. 2 but beggars can't be choosers. I bagged a pair.

First I had to send no. 4 (who was still dithering over yesterday's leftover spaghetti) to kindergarten, a stone's throw away. I dropped her off, then headed back to no. 2's school. Her slippers were still in the car. I bundled them into the plastic bag and asked no. 1 to go to his sister's class to pass the dry stuff to her. I wasn't about to parade my sorry-looking self in front of hundreds of students. Clad in my wet and shabby t-shirt and shorts, I looked like something the cat had dragged in from the drain. No. 1 was wet too but at least he didn't look scruffy.

I hope no. 2 will be smart enough to give an explanation to her teacher if he asks, "Why are you wearing a uniform with a different school badge on it?"

But then for all our trouble, she may just decide to sit around in her wet clothes rather than look uncool in a pair of baggy uniform. I hope she will at least strip off her wet shoes and wear her slippers.

All in a day's work for a mum-of-4-schoolgoing-kids.