The day I have been waiting (not so patiently) since our return from our summer holidays finally arrived……I had been planning this day for 2 weeks now. Unlike every other morning, I planned to be like Usain Bolt out of the blocks, blazing a record breaking trail down the stairs to prepare breakfast for munchkins who were torn between mourning the end of the summer holidays, and celebrating reunions with their buddies.

Last night I had prepared everything with military percision. Freshly laundered uniforms were meticulously ironed and laid out. New shoes were labelled, lunches and snacks were made with love, something healthy and something not so healthy (in the attempt to slowly wean them off their overindulgence in summer sugar!). With a smug sense of satisfaction I went to bed, careful to give myself enough ‘zzzzz’ time to look reasonably refreshed after 8 weeks of no school runs.

At some point in the wee hours, my brain was dragged from a sweet slumber with a nagging thought. Much like a bad dream escalates, I felt my subconscious forcing me to wake up.

‘What if the uniforms don’t fit??’ Irked that my attempt at a revitalisng rest was being interrupted, and even more irked that my military planning omitted the rookie rule of the ‘uniform dry run’, I tried my best to resist thinking beyond the school shoes (which were actually the only part of the uniform I was certain were the correct sizes). Losing the battle to resist, there I was, counting shorts and shirts instead of sheep.

I wondered if it were possible for 8 month old uniforms, that at the time of purchase had a generous amount of ‘growing room’, could now be too small. The summer growth spurt didn’t seem to be that obvious…..but as I imagined DD strutting her stuff in an indecently short kilt, I began to toss and turn. What about the boys’ shorts???? Could shorts ever be too short for a boy??? It’s not like they could ever resemble hot pants unless I had managed to shrink them in a boiling wash….Oh, and what about the dry cleaned blazers???? Somewhere in between summoning up dry cleaning disasters in my mind and wondering when gaping shirt is too ‘gapey’ to be worn, I finally drifted off…..

OK, OK, so after a less than restful night, my ‘Usain Bolt’ plan did not exactly spring to life. In fact, in the time it took DH to feed and water the munchkins, whilst ensuring they were dressed problem free in their perfectly fitting uniforms, I had only managed to trudge to the shower. My first thought? ‘What ‘uniform’ am I going to wear for the first day back to school????’!!!! Given the sartorial part of my brain (if you could even call it that) was still sleeping I had no option but to select the default choice….the old reliable gym kit it is then!