There are days like that…sure there are

I guessed when Master 13 called me Mother Dear that something was up. There always is when he calls me that. It usually means he knows something I’ve forgotten and that he’s going to get to crow about. For a long time. In this case, it went something like this.

Him: “When are we getting my uniform Mother Dear?”

Me – not really listening because I was distracted by my aching head after a long day at work: “Hmm?”

Him: “Uniform. You know – clothes for college. Starts next week.”

He then paused for reaction which of course he duly got as it filtered through my headache (did I mention it had been a long day at work?) that school goes back next week, he starts his first year of highschool…and that I hadn’t got his uniform yet. Or his stationery. And Monday is a public holiday. I’m not going to print here what I said next – all you need to know was that the cats left the room when they heard it (probably because they know that when Mum is using those words, it’s best to stay out of her way).

It is beyond me how anyone who can forget their offspring need return to school in a year – or that one of them needs  a new school uniform. Honestly, it is testament to how great my three kids are that they have survived their mother and got as far as they have despite her. Good grief.

Anyway, I have now ordered the stationery packs – because of course, I had forgotten Miss 11′s as well  (thankfully Mr Nearly 20 who has left home takes care of himself these days) – my reaction to which again caused the cats to go in to hiding. What on earth can they need for a first year of highschool when they are doing languages that brings the cost up to nearly a hundred dollars?

That just leaves the uniform – which I now have precisely two days to track down….and of course he’s grown out of his shoes hasn’t he? These are things people do not tell you when you say the words “wouldn’t it be nice to have a baby?” Nobody says “um thirteen years from now, he will grow out of things within 24 hours of buying them and you’ll need to take out a personal loan to pay the high school fees.”  No they just say ” what a lovely idea.” Probably because they already have teenagers and figure we should all suffer a little bit.

But as we all know, the Universe loves balance and for every frustrating, annoying, please-preserve-me moment, there is a corresponding feel good moment. And today was no different. As I trudged up the hill from the ferry to the house, juggling my handbag, my briefcase and my high heels – because yes, I forgot my flip flops this morning – and cursing the ridiculously narrow cut skirt I chose (in my ‘wisdom’) to wear this morning, I spotted a movement on the edge of the sidewalk. There on the grass was a young hedgehog  - maybe the size of a tennis ball when he curled up at the sound of my voice. Thinking Miss 11, who dreams of being a vet, would think him cute, I stopped to take his photo with my phone. As I snapped photos I realised he was sort of wobbly and turning in circles but he didn’t appear sick. Now, I know that sounds like a contradiction but he seemed perfectly healthy except he was kind of disoriented.

Now my mother used to work with the  SPCA and was always saving, rescuing and just generally caring for critters of all kinds – including ones that repaid her with bites, scratches and general misery. And mum never turned her back on an animal that needed help – even if it meant lots of tears later if it didn’t make it.  With a sigh, I took my merino cardigan out of my bag – hey it’s a sweater, I can always replace it right? – and used it to pick my new friend up.  He promptly rolled in a ball and snuffled around in my arms for the walk home.
Mr 13 and Miss 11 were duly dispatched on our arrival to find some shredded chicken and water which we put down in front of the little guy – and he sprang to life. Water was clearly a priority and we could actually hear him lapping – poor little thing must have been really thirsty. After a few seconds he lifted his head and we could see him sniffing – he could smell the chicken. He turned in a circle, passing the chicken by and when he spotted me curling in a ball before uncurling and continuing his circle. Eventually he found the chicken and with much smacking and chomping devoured it.

I shredded a little more and put it down. Same scenario. I leaned in closer – and he rolled back up. I stayed very still and waited – and he unrolled. This time I saw the problem when he unrolled and took another drink of water: our prickly wee guest only has one eye. There’s no wound or anything, so perhaps he was born that way.   Poor wee guy. Yes, yes I should let nature take its course and all that jazz. Blah, blah, blah is what I have to say to that. My mother didn’t raise me to turn my back on a creature in need.

Which is why, as I type, a tiny little hedgehog, barely the size of a tennis ball and with a tummy full of fresh water and shredded chicken, is asleep in a teatowel in a carton on top of our freezer in the laundry. He has been dubbed Captain Jack because his one eye made the kids think of pirates.

And he made us all forget the cost of stationery and the urgent need for school uniforms.

There is another reason his arrival was welcomed and made us all smile…but you’ll need to check back tomorrow to find out what that is.