by Rachel Ragg
When my seven-year-old daughter said “Mummeee…” on Friday night, my heart sank.
The children broke up from school last Wednesday, so we had had what felt like several light years to get ready for her Beavers trip to a local fire station. So at 5.55 pm, I was of course losing my keys and fighting with my hair straighteners.
“What do you want?” I asked suspiciously.
“You said you were going to iron my Beavers scarf.”
“Yes. You promised last Friday.”
My heart sank even further. I did promise, and I had failed to deliver. Again.
“I know I promised, but we haven’t got time now,” I said.
“But you said you would iron the folds in. I won’t get the Smartest Beaver award without ironed folds.”
Well. There was only one solution. The hair straighteners.
“Right. Ironed folds are what you will have,” I declared.
Only they weren’t. Why doesn’t it say in the hair straightener instructions “not to be used on polyester Beavers scarves”?
Fortunately the fire brigade did not have to cancel our Beavers trip as a result of the scarf-meets-hair-straightener scenario. But if my hair develops green and blue polyester stripes, I will know why.