It’s Called Survival of the Fittest, Mom!

9 November 2013, Saturday

We returned from a friend’s daughter’s birthday party at Hume Ave, Symphony Heights, about two hours ago (9:06pm).

We had arrived at the party venue about 6pm, thereabouts. I got there in a cab with A3 and A4 (from yet another kindy kid’s birthday party at McDonald’s Ridout). S and A2 had arrived much earlier (They came straight from A2’s art class).

A2 was already swimming before we got into a cab (S WhatsApped me). He had removed his T-shirt, and jumped in to swim in just his Bermudas. However, on my instruction, A3 had packed the kids’ swimwear, inflatables and a towel to share, without any spare clothes to change into! I WhatsApped S back to say it’s OK; A2 can change into swimwear when we get there; bermudas should be dry by the time we leave the party. (You learn to live and adapt when you have many kids. There are just too many that are changeable to plan far)

As I settled cab fare, A4 was busy being wowed by the grand stairs that led up to a platform, that then lead to the pool area. It was pretty grand!

A4 then lamented aloud with envy, “Har? So good! I wish I was Mrs Chia’s daughter.” She reiterated her wish as we climbed the grand tall flight.

Sigh! It looks like this mommy will be readily replaced if a good opportunity presents itself. (Better be on my best behaviour!)

(See also “Great come-back for a little mind”)


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