'Mummy Mummy, we need to take Rosemary to school today Sister Annita said', exclaimed my 4 year old breathlessly at 7.30am last Thursday. I am now totally resigned to being given no notice by my kids about anything to do with school and instead fill their bags with whatever requests they like, usually fairly suspect, (did your teacher really say she wanted to see your Hannah Montana guitar shaped sparkly lippy?) but no time to argue as they are rushing out of the door, invariably late. Anyway, Rosemary cool, absolutely no problem whatsoever. My garden would currently make old Hugh Fearnley Whatsit at the www.rivercottage.net even more greeener than he possibly is with envy as it's positively bursting with herbs and produce now. So Rosemary, bring it on, just bring it on. There you go my love, just hold it carefully in the car until you get there. So, I wave everyone off cheerfully because my husband does the morning school run (phew phew phew) and pat myself on the back.
Not so long later, my mobile rings.
'Hey, you got the Rosemary wrong love'
'What do you mean wrong?' (I am visibly bristling at this criticism so early on in the day)
'Well, as we were going into Church (always every Thursday) late, there was a distinct lack of any other 4 year olds carrying Rosemary'
'Oh well, (me positively bursting with pride now and patting myself on the back), no-one else probably could grow any'
'No, I don't think it's Rosemary they wanted'
'Are you sure?'
'Well, put it like this, as I handed Scarlett over to her teacher and she squeezed alongside the pew, all her classmates were clutching something else that sounds similar.....'
'Similar? Rocket? Well what?'
'Those necklaces with crosses on...'
'OMG, a ROSARY'
Umm, not so self-satisfied smug yummy green mummy now, afterall.
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