Friday, February 10, 2012

title pic Survival of the fittest

Posted by dulwichmum on Fri 29 June 2007

Last night the parents from Freya’s delightful class took the two super teachers out for a thank you supper. James and I were the first to arrive and selected seats directly opposite each other, we so seldom have a chance to talk anymore.

Soon the other parents began to arrive and the restaurant buzzed with merry chatter as the wine flowed. Imogen sat next to me while two other glamorous mums sandwiched my husband on the opposite side of the table. Soon the conversation turned to the issues involved when considering whether to have a third child. Lovely Imogen is four months pregnant.

“You really are the clever girl,” enthused Nathalie and Helena. Leaving a five year gap between all three of Imogen’s children apparently means that her oldest child Felix will be 15 years old before Imogen must seriously consider living without a nanny. Apparently there is no justification for keeping a nanny after the youngest child sets foot in pre-prep at age five, as this is regarded to be “serious au pair territory.”

The girls begged me to describe how I endure the hardship of allowing a young pert girl with limited English to live in my home. I smiled a lot and said little. “Au pairs come from countries where a man is considered wealthy if he owns a goat or a clock radio,” insisted Nathalie.

“How can you leave your home for a coffee with friends, knowing she is at home with your man?” she asked in horror. “Nannies are older,” Nathalie insisted, “you can choose one that is ugly and far more capable.” Apparently one can not trust an au pair to drive a car or even collect the dry cleaning.

The three girls agreed that it was not until one’s family is complete, that a woman could even consider “post birth reconstructive surgery” (breast lift/implants and tummy tuck). Helena laughed as she described her personal fitness regime, “survival of the fittest” is how she defined it. “I shall always be the best choice on my husbands menu,” she purred. “But until I pop the last baby out, it shall be with the help of pilates, diet and botox.”

“You don’t work out do you?” she asked me. “I must, or my body would look like melted butter when naked.” Helena has a pearl on her engagement ring of similar dimensions to a robins egg.

“Have you seen the size of recent divorce settlements?” she enquired. “If I give him three children – my man had better value his quality of life at home, because he shall not be able to afford it with anyone else. What judge would not give me everything I ask for, I have given my husband all that he could possibly want…” she laughed.

I must admit, ‘love’ never came into the conversation at all!

James looked like a rat catchers dog sucking a wasp when three girls invited me to one of their regular boozy lunches where their have their filler/botox jabs topped up.

I am indeed a lovely wife, I hope that he appreciates it; I never even had my high lights done when I was pregnant… I intend to spend much more time with Imogen and her chums in the near future.

top