I am still seething.
Left the family home at approx 11.30 am with toddler, pushchair and several items of baggage to fly to Charles de Gaulle airport (where this happened).
6pm. Baggage taking an eternity to arrive on the conveyer belt. Toddler on the other end of a strap attached to wrist in vain attempt to prevent her from leaving the premises. Toddler finds it amusing to run around in anti-clockwise circles, mummifying me with the strap, so have to spin around in an anti-clockwise direction to free myself. Am feeling rather dizzy. And tired. And hot. Feel I am showing remarkable patience and good humour, all things considered.
Toddler’s hand strays for a nanosecond onto the conveyor belt before I yank sharply on the strap.
French woman behind me, to her husband: “These people, no control over their children, fancy letting the child play on the conveyor belt. I can see how these terrible accidents you read about happen now. What can she be thinking of….”
These were the same people who had watched me struggle to carry toddler and two bags off the plane, without offering assistance, then watched me bend to pick up the folded pushchair and add it to my load and haul it all onto the bus, still without offering assistance. People who, as a matter of fact, had pushed past me to get onto the bus first, thereby taking up the last available seats.
Of course they didn’t expect yours truly to understand/speak French.
*petite anglaise smiles sweetly* “I know, I’m a menace to society. Don’t worry, I have an appointment booked to have my tubes tied next week so there’s no danger that I’ll be bringing any more children into the world.”
*talking to toddler, loudly* “These people. Badmouthing a complete stranger when she is 30 cm away. No manners whatsoever. And very bad dress sense.”
*snaps* “I’ve got everything under control, no thanks to you, you supercilious bitch.”
Of course, this being a blog, you can’t be sure that I used any of the above. I may have just seethed to myself while going rather red in the face. But you’ll never know, will you?