Paris? New York? London?
Not quite—just an ordinary street in the South East. Dartford, to be exact. But you wouldn’t think it.
I’m a first-time school-run parent—well, mum actually. I still remember being dropped off at school in the mid-1980s, when nearly every mum looked like they were cut from the same Grattan catalogue. Windswept big hair, mullets and perms of every variety on every race, or a neat little afro. Always paired with almond-pointed kitten heels (white or black), scrunchies, and those shoulder-padded windbreakers that seemed to rule the decade.
The soundtrack? More often than not, it was Tommy Roe’s Dizzy or Michael Jackson’s Bad blaring from the Ford Sierras lined up along the curb. That was just the vibe back then.
Fast forward to today. Times have changed. On my son’s first morning of reception, there I was in my little hatchback—dent on the boot included—wearing a scarf, slightly worn leggings, and a denim shirt. I hadn’t thought much about myself beyond looking vaguely presentable. My real focus was on him: shoes gleaming, jumper freshly pressed and not a single crease in sight.
“Stand still and give me a proper smile this time”, I had said, super proud of the moment, trying for the third time that morning to take the ‘perfect’ photo. My baby was growing up so quickly. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but I was filled with warm, cosy feelings. No sadness here. Honestly.
It was only a 10 minute drive, I think it was when I turned onto school road that I really began to notice things . It was like driving into another world full of Teslas and Range Rovers and Porches, – you could have easily believed that I took the wrong turning and had ended up at a car show, except it wasn’t and there was so much traffic.
I suddenly felt quite small amongst these ‘giants’
I suddenly felt quite small amongst these ‘giants’, oh why didn’t I get my dent fixed on my insurance when I could have’, I thought, silently scolding myself.
The aggressive beeping from a few cars behind me snapped me out of my thoughts. Next -. Where to park…ahh found a space…at last.
As I switched off the engine, I just sat for a second, taking it all in. The street was alive! I could spot the seasoned school run parents, the ‘no nonsense’ ones with three kids in tow marching them to the zebra crossing with military precision. Then there were the fed up looking parents, whose children were clearly not ready for a Monday morning and still wished it was the weekend. Others somehow balanced two scooters in one hand and a stack of permission slips under their armpits and I silently applauded them.
I unbuckled my son’s seatbelt, jut as an argument broke out with a guy in a gorgeous BMW and a local resident, “you can’t park outside my garage mate”, he spat as he raised his voice several octaves (probably hoping the rest of us would take note).
Then came the mums. Not just mums—supermodel mums. You know the ones. Perfectly blow-dried hair, glowing skin, looking like they’d strolled straight out of Vogue. I couldn’t work out if they’d woken up at 5 a.m. or if this was just… genetic unfairness.
And then there was the uniform of the day: New Balance trainers, puffer jackets, sport socks pulled over leggings. It was like a silent WhatsApp group memo that I had somehow missed. Online shopping. Next-day delivery, I thought.
Finally, I spotted a few who looked more like me. Wide-eyed, a little nervous, but mostly just excited. And that was comforting. Because as much as this whole thing felt like stepping into uncharted territory, I knew I wasn’t alone.
Just as we got to his classroom door, my son turned around and looked at me with a pointed look and a cheeky grin.
“Don’t forget extra chocolate sauce on my pancakes tonight”, and with a swift turn he was gone. No bye. No kiss. No hug.
I stood for a moment awkwardly, and then I smiled – I may not have a fancy SUV, or designer clothes and perfect glossy hair, but I was still mum and still the best pancake chocolate spreader ever.
I wiped away a happy tear as I settled back into my car, life was changing and that was ok.
The end.
Well almost I didn’t do that next day delivery for new sneakers – but I kept the link anyway , lol – New Balance 530 Trainers White Silver – Women’s Trainers
The End!
