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The Christmas play bun fight

Why is it that the Christmas play brings out the very worst in people? This is especially true of Alpha Mum who seems to transform into an even more vile and annoying being at this time of year.

There I was, innocently thinking that if I dropped the kids off to their classrooms quickly and went straight to the hall where the play was being held then I'd be in plenty of time to bag a decent seat. How wrong was I? The front rows were strewn with artfully arranged possessions yet devoid of human backsides... bar one Rottweiler-type guard Mom showing her sharpened teeth at anyone sniffing around her patch.

Thinking that the Alpha gang couldn't possibly be bold enough to have 'reserved' the entire two front rows, I shifted the one inch of cardigan stretching into the end seat on the front row and plonked myself down. Foolish me. Before I could draw a ragged breath Rottie Mom was upon me. Displaying an impressive fortune in corrective orthodontry and a fair bit of Botox to boot (although being devoid of expression - and possibly emotion - is an Alpha trademark), the Rottie exclaimed: "Oh I am sorry but you can't possibly sit there. I'm holding these seats for my friends!" Wrongfooted by her booming voice, discomforting invasion of my body space and basilisk stare, I muttered pathetically: "Oh! I didn't realise that you could reserve seats here. How silly of me!" Then cringingly retreated to a lesser seat, muttering crossly as  my mind filled with a thousand possibly brilliant retorts.

For anybody else faced with the same hideousness, don't give up like I did and suffer having to record the back of someone's head while the Alpha b*tches wave smugly to their equally hideous rugrats from the front row. Here's a spot of ammo (I suggest you keep it in your handbag for emergency situations):
  • "Hey, who made you God?"*
  • Stare back rudely and demand: "What did you say? Don't be so foolish! You can't reserve seats here! It's not the bloody opera you know!" Then sit down firmly and refuse to be moved.  
  • "I didn't realise you worked here! In that case, I really must speak to you about the shocking state of the girl's toilets in the Junior block. Can you ensure that they're cleaned more often as it's a real health hazard.... (keep talking very fast and for as long as possible until her eyes glaze over and she goes away)"
  • "I'm so pleased you're here. I wanted to talk to you about the fact that your son has been teaching my daughter the most shocking swear words - I don't know where he got them from as you don't look like the sort of woman to use such crude terms. My husband is incredibly cross about it so maybe you can speak to your child before my husband insists that I raise a formal complaint with the headmaster?
*This riposte donated by Alpha who always knows exactly what to say to put the pushy mothers in their place.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Oh dear, YLM - will you never learn. You claim ill-health, my dear. All you had to do was smile sweetly, pat your swelling girth, raise your hand to your mouth and:
'Would you mind terribly if I just sit here at the end - need a quick getaway - you know... (mime projectile vomiting...)'.
I would wager you 1000 dirhams that you could have stretched out along the front row with no neighbours, while Bitch Pack hovered in the back row to protect their Couture whatevers. Live and learn YLM. I had a husband once who cleverly claimed car sickness - always got the front seat! He learned that one as a child to get one over on his siblings. I would guess you were an only child YLM. You don't know how to play dirty!
YLM said…
Oh I know but there's only a small bump as yet. Maybe I should have stuffed a pillow up there for max effect. Top idea though. I'll remember that.

And guilty as charged, was an only for 10 years before my bro came along so sadly did not pick up many dirty tricks. :-(

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