A horrifying egg story (!!)

Driving to school, normal, lovely sunny school run. We chat, as we always do. We talk about friends, about school, anything really. We are trying to figure out which of the girls doesn’t have a cat because A wants to go on her first ever sleepover. Its not fair she says that she’s almost 9 and never slept at someones house. I instruct her to ask all the girls about their pets and tell me. I feel sorry for whichever family doesn’t have a cat because that mum, she will be my friend! haha

Then a bit of silence…. and a tentative …. “mummy…….” I can hear already by her voice that this is something important. “Yes sweetie?” I say. She takes a deep breath, “mummy, Miss Z says we are painting hardboiled eggs in art for easter”. My heart almost stops. Like a giant claw just closes around it and Im unable to breathe. Eggs? I say, real eggs? “yes mummy, real eggs, hardboiled ones”. My mind is racing, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. Trying so desperately to stay calm. Did Miss Z forget? Has she not read her file? Did someone somewhere go totally bonkers? When do you have art again I ask. She doesn’t remember.  A, I say, listen to me now. If at any point you go in to a class room and there are eggs there, real eggs, I want you to walk straight out and go to reception and ask Miss T to call mummy. ok? “Yes mummy” she almost whispers. I ask her why she didnt speak up, she shrugs. I try to be calm still, I tell her I am proud of her for telling me, I tell her well done, and she did the right thing and next we will work on being vocal and speaking up. She understands, she nods. She knows.

We arrive at school. My legs are weak, I feel like I might pass out. I kiss them both goodbye, try to smile and seem normal, but my whole world is spinning.

I go in to reception, I try to be calm, I am everything but calm. Hi Miss T, I need to speak with Mr R, Mrs Y and Miss Z I say as politely and calmly as I possibly can. Yes of course she says, what is it regarding? “EGGS” I say and then I feel relieved somehow, I laugh, Im almost me again. Ive made it, Ive made it in there, Ive averted whatever disaster may have happened. I quickly explain the situation. “Yes, she says, of course, EGGS”, she pops off to the staffroom and manages to catch all the people I had asked for. She comes back. “Polystyrene egg” she says, “thats what they are painting. But I reminded them all about real eggs, and that if any real egg is brought in to any class room by anybody A should leave immediately. I am sending an email to all her teachers now as well, just so they all have a reminder”.

I am holding the reception desk, laughing now, I can breathe again. We make a joke about stupid chickens and stupid eggs and I am so relieved I almost want to hug her.

I am so relieved. Polystyrene eggs.

How a small conversation about egg can ruin ones morning. :/

Welcome to allergy mama world.


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