The Nuclear Mother

The day began with a big 'radgie.'

My 8 year old doesn't bother with the insignificant little push buttons. He always goes straight for my big red nuclear launch button.

I can't even remember what the row was about, but he does a 'face' which says 'oh for Goodness sake mum, you're so tiresome.'

Its that face that sends me into nuclear mode, so we parted as enemies at the bus stop which set me up for a bad day.

I'm pretty sure he'll have sat on the bus and chatted happily with his pals, forgetting all about his radgie mother. Meanwhile, I had a good cry, and stomped 3 miles around our village muttering madly to myself.

By lunchtime, I had become a little calmer - thanks to a visit from our local vicar.
He had heard about my situation and wanted to pop in to see if everything was ok. He's a really lovely guy, and he did make me feel better.
Not sure if God sent him to my rescue, maybe my 8 year old had rang him up and sent him over in a moment of guilt. You never know!