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Football: a big day in the life of

And I don’t mean the impending announcement of whether West Ham will indeed get the Olympic stadium over Tottenham.

No, it’s bigger than that: today is the day the eldest goes off to play in her first inter-school football tournament on the astroturf pitches at a local High School. She has some new Arsenal shin pads, which the youngest tested thoroughly in the front room last night by giving her sister’s shins some good hard kicks. She has some football socks which she insisted she didn’t need because she was going to borrow her friend’s spare pair. It was pointed out that, going forward, if she was going to play for Arsenal Ladies she might need her own…

There then followed a fulmination about the selfish nature of her boy team mates; apparently, they would rather lose possession of the ball to the opposing team than pass to a girl. There was also a more mild-mannered digression around why she was picked to play in the team at all: long legs, speed to burn…

I am on maternal sporting tenterhooks waiting for the post-match report.

Pass us the ball lads

Back to school

The kids went back yesterday after a protracted absence due to some mysterious and unpleasant flu-like virus, that totalled the youngest and drifted back and forth in differing manifestations in the eldest.

Thankfully, I did not receive last week’s come and fetch them call mid-morning and I collected them at the usual time, more or less intact.

The youngest had spent the morning being filmed for a Marmite advert and the eldest said I need shin pads by Friday. They then went on to discuss the difficulties of filming (smoke effects setting off the school fire alarm twice) and those of getting your team mates to play a decent passing game.
I am sure nothing so interesting ever happened in my day. The only excitement I can remember was when Princess Anne used the school playing fields to land her helicoptor in. This caused some ripples at the Boston High School. I was unmoved, well used as I was to seeing her misog as she rode her horses about Sandhurst.

And then of course my maternal grandparents lived in her old house anyway.

The white horse was called Alexander back in the day