All children are embarrassing. I know this. I am fully aware that my two precious angels will regularly make me either want to weep at their scandalous behaviour or throttle them, Homer Simpson-style, whilst hoping for a timely hole to open up and swallow me. Such is life with kids.
But today was a special day - a Factor 8 on the Cringe Scale.
It started with the Small(er) One shouting "bugger!" at the top of her voice in church. When reprimanded she screeched indignantly; "But MUMMY, you say that word ALL the time!" Erm...mea culpa. But I'd rather keep the sordid details of my slutty ways away from the ears of the priest and dear old church ladies, thanks all the same.
The Small(er) One then followed up this shameless expose of her dear mother's failings by pulling Firstborn's skirt and knickers down to her ankles. Unfortunately the congregation was on its knees at the time but Firstborn was standing up on the pew, resulting in the five packed rows behind us receiving a complete and unobstructed view of Firstborn's bare behind.
And those were just the Cringe highlights. There were more, many more, as the day unfolded. But I can't bear to think on them now. Right now I am concentrating very very hard on the friendly chink-chink sound of the ice in my glass in a desperate attempt to keep the men in white coats at bay...