I'm sorry to disturb you headmaster, I mean Father Bertie, but I'm at me wit's end.
Homeschooling? Homeschooling me arse, Father! What medication was I on the day I agreed to that one? It's bone tired I am. I mean I was even considering leaving them on the bus and hoping they didn’t know the way home, but I’m sure me bloody husband has drummed the address into them, suspecting that one day that option would occur to me.
And in answer to your question Father, it was all the hubby’s fault. It’s the latest thing he told me. All the best parents are doing it, he said, as we trudged around Mothercare one Saturday afternoon. Expecting me second I was then, with the first due to start school, thank God.
He deliberately said it within hearing range of Mrs. Stepford wife. Mrs. I can have a job, homeschool, and look like Barbie, all whilst learning 3 oriental languages.
Yeah yeah, there she was standing behind the maternity bra counter, itching to get in on the conversation and give me the benefit of her oh-so-extensive experience, and just to head her off at the pass I heard some other version of meself agreeing that of course I would 100% be homeschooling, no bloody doubt about it. I mean who doesn’t want to be in with the in-crowd? Be one of the best parents?
That wasn't my plan of course. I was shipping the little blighters off to boarding school ASAP. I mean you wouldn’t want to be putting teachers out of jobs, now, would you? But there was no escape once little Ms loudmouth knew about it. Sure she had me signed up to the Homeschoolers Sodality so fast you'd think she was on commission.
So here I am Father Bertie, 6 years and three kids later, wrinkled lined, and flabby, a broken woman, beseeching you Father to please help me get these bloody kids enrolled in school.
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Posted in response to 
The prompt is 'bone tired'
The image is my own