The dust cannot wait...

To paraphrase the title of Pamela's wonderful blog, today was a day when the dust cannot wait because Mum is coming to stay. I'm great at letting the dust wait, there is always something far more fun, urgent or even less boring to do. But when my Mum is coming to stay the dust has to go or at least some of it has to.

My morning of cleaning did not go exactly as planned. The first hour was spent dealing with Parent Association business then Mum rang to discuss the weather (well we are English) and what to pack. I managed a shower and baked some valentine hearts and bread and finally set about the reorganising of bedrooms. I was halfway through turning Mollie's room into a guest room when the phone rang again. Mum, with the words you don't want to hear...'I've lost my passport, I won't be able to come'. I told her she could use her driving licence if it had a photograph on it but unfortunately it does not. I got her to retrace her thoughts on where she could have put the passport since she last saw it at the weekend. I heard her tipping out her handbag, riffling through drawers and rushing up and down stairs while looking for it but she couldn't find it. She decided it would be easier to look without the phone so hung up promising to call me.

I gave up on the bedroom as I wasn't sure I'd have a visitor and started on the bathroom. Midway through the phone rang and I rushed to answer, it wasn't Mum but Ben's headmistress ringing to ask me what I thought about the new way they've been teaching writing compared to the way Mollie and Dillon were taught. This resulted in a long discussion about the merits and drawbacks of teaching joined up writing from the age of four.

Finally I could bear it no longer and rang Mum. No answer. I rang Granny who was able to tell me that Mum had left for the airport with her work ID. I rang Mum and told her I'd ring Aer Lingus and check whether they would accept that kind of ID. Twenty minutes of being disconnected twice, listening to diddlyeye music and automated voices, I finally got through to an operator who was able to confirm that photographic work ID was allowed. I rang Mum to reassure her when she said 'but I don't work there anymore', 'I know' I replied 'but don't tell them that'.

So yes, the dust will have to wait because I'm off to the airport to collect her now.