We all do it. Have parenting fails.

I have talked about some fails on my blog but I am planning on starting a new series of themed posts about our parenting fails – big and small, real and perceived. Feel free to add your own!

Todays post has been brought to you by Kindy Prep. This is where the day care that Master 4 is at runs some transition stuff to help our little ones prepare for kindergarten next year. Sounds just peachy,  right!? 

So,  a note comes home a few weeks ago telling us all about this stuff. Can we please pack a lunch box, like real school and the adorable sweetlings will learn how to open it up and undo their lunches, like real life.  Master 4 was super dooper excited. So, last Tuesday I happily prepared his lunch box and packed him off to day care with his dad to drop him off. Master 4 reportedly gets into the front door of school and a little girl, lets call her Jane, comes running over and loudly says;

“ITS NOT LUNCH BOX DAY TODAY, you have it wrong, it’s not fair now you have brought your lunch, we all miss out, so should you. YOU ARE WRONG!”

Dear Hubby amazingly did not kick said little gobstick, I mean, little girl in the shins. But Master 4 dissolved into betrayed, disappointed tears, and said accusingly to Dear Daddy, “Tell mummy she got it WRONG!” I received an earful from my tortured little boy that afternoon.

Apparently lunch box day kicked off today. This Tuesday, not last Tuesday.

Oh dear.

Well, today I started work at 7, so I left home just after 6am, after kissing dear hubby on the cheek and said, “Please remember that it is lunch box day today, Master 4 has been counting down the sleeps.”

The good news is that Dear Hubby made a lunch box and Master 4 was successfully dropped off to the right day care, on the right day, with a lunchbox on the APPROPRIATE day.
Winner winner, chicken dinner!!!
Everyone cheer with me in unison…..oh wait, what is that?

Dear Hubby informed me that they got inside the door, WINNING! and ONLY then realised it was dress up day as well……………

Shit.

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