Diary of a Mummy Misfit #1 by Amanda Egan Page B

food was actually on time, delectable and with no further trips to the Co-op.
     
    The wine had probably been flowing a little too rapidly and I should have realised that’s the sign when one of us will usually start with the Spat of the Year.
     
    Lou kicked this one off with, “So, Lib.  You’re not really gonna go through with this private school crap are yeh?”
     
    Cam almost choked on his Brie and mumbled something about ‘Shut yer geggie, Lou!’
     
    “I mean, come on, yeh know it’s gonna cripple yeh and they’re just not your sort of people”, she continued.
     
    Tried to defend myself by telling her we know exactly what we’re doing and feel it’s the right thing for Max.  The papers are always running stories about ordinary people turning to private education and surely, if they felt they were in a position to do it for Finn, they might consider it?
     
    “Like hell I would,” she spat back.  “I wouldn’t want him going all hoity toity on me.”
     
    Opened my mouth to speak but was instantly gunned down again, “You’ll only make yourself miserable Lib.  You’ll have nothing in common with them and they’ll sniff you out before you can say ‘Primark!’”
     
    Ned giggled a bit at this and I wanted to thump him - quite hard.
     
    When I finally managed to get a word in I pointed out that the things Lou was saying were as bad as the things the Gnome had said about the school charity - it was almost reverse snobbery.
     
    “Sorry Lou but you’re making a huge generalisation”, I continued.  “Obviously some of them are really up themselves but there’ll be some decent ones - take Fenella, she’s loaded but she’s lovely.  You’d really like her.”
     
    “Oh yeah. FEN-ELL-AAH”, Lou slurred sarcastically in her best ‘Queen’s English’. “Fenella, Fenella, Fenella.  That’s all we ever bloody hear now.”
     
    Even though I was beginning to feel a bit pie-eyed myself, I suddenly realised what all this was about.  Lou didn’t really have an issue with the school.  She was just jealous of my new friend.
     
    Remember pouring myself another glass of wine - why do I do that when I know I’ve had enough?  And then I retaliated with, “Oh grow up Lou.  So I’ve got another friend.  So what? That doesn’t mean you’re not still my best friend.  What the hell’s wrong with you, can’t you share?”
     
    Had obviously pushed it too far this time because Lou stood up, knocked her chair to the floor and, with a “Piss off Libby,” made her way upstairs.
     
    Cam then spoke up, “Fancy a wee whisky, Ned?  To celebrate the fact that the lassies’ yearly blow up is oot of the way.  Look on the bright side, we can relax for the rest of yer holiday.”
     
    Have vague recollection of pushing back my chair while abandoning my own dignity with the same ‘eloquence’, and hissing, “Oh piss off Cam” as I too went upstairs.
     
    Which only proves how alike Lou and I really are.
     
    Friday 11 th July
     
    As ever, the argument blew over as quickly as it started and our husbands breathed a sigh of relief.  That’s the great thing about our friendship.
     
    Lou admitted her jealous insecurities and I promised I wouldn’t neglect her and go all snooty on her.  She made me swear I’d still be her bargain hunting buddy and definitely wouldn’t set foot in Prada or Emporio Armani - fat chance!
     
    Oh and I also had to vow never to use words like ‘school run,’ ‘play-date’ and, a new one, ‘marvellous’.  God she drives a hard bargain.
     
    And just for good measure she said if I ever broke any of those rules she’d make sure that our ridiculously titled ‘Slag’s Almanac’ would be posted on the internet in my name. (This being a daft set of tips for disorganised girls to get by in life, which we used to refer to during our mad college days).
     
    Told her there was no way I would risk even slightly bending the rules with that as a threat.  No one