It’s been a good start.
We will get some wobbles, because wobbles have a way of building up and spilling out in a wobbly way (a bit like my waistline does when trying to fit into my jeans again now the summer sun has clocked off).
But my daughter is chirpy and chatty after her first week back at school.
She did Vocational Studies yesterday, which as far as I can see, consisted of her not actually studying Hairdressing & Beauty at the special school’s secondary site, but having a Hairdressing & Beauty lesson performed on her.
Her hair was styled; nail varnish painted onto her finger- and toenails; and eyeshadow, lippy, and blusher applied, highlighting the hitherto-undiscovered landscape of her perfect cheekbones.
In a shocking piece of gender sterotyping, the boys, apparently, did Gardening.
You may notice that in the photo my girl has her hands resting on her chest, splaying her fingers out artfully. You might imagine this is because I posed her like this to show off her nail varnish, but this is not the case. She was so proud of her grown-up nails that she held her hands up to display them prominently - all the way home from school, all evening and even as she got into bed. “You can relax your hands, sweetheart,” I told her, “You’ll give yourself cramp if you’re not careful.”
She didn’t take much notice. Not having any nail varnish remover in the house (due to my disctinct lack of long nails thanks to a lifelong nail-biting habit), she had to go to school today with her digits still decked out with candy pink tips. And as we walked through the gates, she continued to hold them out in front of her, looking like a puffed up pianist preparing to astonish and delight a concert crowd.
I’ll be shouting "Encore!" the loudest, as usual.
Song is Art Tatum - Sophisticated Lady
