You’ve seen the Housewives of New York and the rest, well, I kid you not they are tame compared with the Housewives of School Gates said the former 80’s chick, Mummy Buck.
With four children, the school run for Mummy Buck has been part of her daily routine for the last 14+ years. With only Dip-Jnr left at Primary, the school gates will soon become a distant
The Daily Grief Editor, a Mum herself, thought it would be fun to ask our regular columnist and former 80’s chick, Mummy Buck to give our readers an insight to all the Mums she’s been
unfortunate fortunate enough to meet over the years at the school gates.
How do you feel Mummy Buck, knowing in 8 months your Primary school gate days will be over?
You know when you lose a pound and find a tenner? No, nor do I but I liken the feeling to that. Mixed emotions, sad and happy all at the same time.
Sad knowing Dip-Jnr will be joining the ranks of the teenage attitude squad, but happy knowing I will be able to escape the playground jungle screeching I’m a Mum Get me out of here all the way to my big fuck off car…..that I haven’t bought yet.
Is there not a school gate at Secondary?
Yes, there is, but its only for teachers to stand at, NOT parents. Unless you happen to be that ‘one’ parent whose child doesn’t give a crap.
I was told some time ago by my older ones, that under NO circumstances am I to stand anywhere near and definitely not at the gates. The shame they would feel, me putting myself out there in full view of 1100+ pupils would be too much for them to bear.
I’m to remain, at all times, out of sight in the car.
Teenagers eh! Mummy Buck describe to our readers, the Mums you have crossed paths with over the years.
Gosh, there’s been loads. I won’t have time to
bitch talk about them all now. With the exception of the Coffee to Go Mums. I have a total of ten. Today I will give you five. You’ll have to come back next week for the other five.
I’ll start with the Coffee to Go Mums. These mums are witty, sarcastic, honest a real bunch of yummie mummies. They love a bit of phone use and social media. Ex-members of the playground bullshit club. Love a piss up, gossip, nights out and nights in with fluffy pj’s and matching slippers.
Mums I’m very lucky to call my close friends.
Ha-ha, that’s great. How would you describe some of the others?
There’s a variety.
The More Faces Than a Clock Mum
The Jackanory Mum
The Aunt Bessie Mum
The Party Queen
The Marvel Mummy
Wow, you sure have a collection of, shall we say, unusual names. Let’s start with ‘More Faces Than a Clock Mum’.
[Mummy Buck laughing] Long nickname isn’t it? Almost as long as their list of who to slate next. The Church on Sunday, Gossip on Monday lot. Although if you ask my Dad, Grandad Buck, he’d say these mums don’t wait till Monday’!
This is the Mum happily chit-chatting with you 9 o’clock at the gates. Giving you the rundown of who’s doing what/where and who with.
Half the people being talked about, you won’t even know. But you learn shes apparently a right ‘cow’.
She’s a sheep in wolves clothing. Lulling you into a false sense of ‘we are friends’ security. Once hooked, she will turn the conversation around and squeeze your brains for any snippet of information she can get. Divulge at your own peril.
Fast forward to 2 o’clock and you’ll see her over at the other gates. Her mouth going like the clappers feeding the coven her version of YOUR ‘info’ from the cauldron of bullshit.
And its all whispers and hard stares as you make your way across the playground.
AUNT BESSIE MUM
The title is misleading. This Mum is NOT an Aunt Bessie’s Mum who fills her trolley with ‘can’t be arsed & haven’t got time to cook’ roast potatoes, parsnips and the like.
Nope, this mum is trolley deep in raw ingredients.
The only card maxed out to the limit in her purse is her Hobby Craft loyalty card.
She loves nothing more than proudly showcasing Johnnies home-made costume on Facebook the morning of World Book Day. Pinning her creation to her Pinterest board causing a frenzy of new followers.
This Mum is NOT a last-minute Amazon shopper. She gets a rash just thinking about Johnnie going into school blending into a sea of matching last-ditch effort costumes. How would she ever find him after school?
She starts with a blank canvas building a beautiful picture. Feeding a feast fit for a King to her kids, who eat and enjoy every morsel, from the last couple of ingredients left in the fridge. Not a cookbook in sight.
She’s the one leading the march through town waving the banner ‘Kids Need Vegetables NOT Spaghetti Hoops’.
You mention the ‘last minute Amazon Shopper’ who’s that Mum? what do you mean?
Oooooh well, that Mum is me, the one who got the World Day letter but lost it!
Luckily I have Amazon Prime, only because I keep forgetting to cancel the bloody thing since the free trial!
Can I just give a little tip here about buying last minute on Amazon? Never assume, like I did the package on your doorstep is what you ordered or think you ordered.
I made that mistake. Naturally, I didn’t open the package until the morning he needed it.
You can imagine my horror when feeling proud that I actually had an outfit to unwrap, the costume turned out to be for a boy age 6. My son is age 10. You do the maths.
Do you see the problem we had? I tell you, with a quick bit of thinking, I managed to convince him he was a dead ringer for the incredibly well known and loved Huckleberry Finn.
He went in rocking that poor look.
Good tip there for our readers Mummy Buck.
Tell us about the Jackanory Mum
Do you remember the programme Jackanory? I loved listening to stories every week. Who would have thought I’d still be listening to fairy stories all these years later.
This is the mum telling her story, one day at a time, with a shovel of bullshit thrown in for dramatic purposes.
Avoid eye contact with her at all costs. Seriously, if she asks, ‘how you are?’ keep walking. She’s not asking ’cause she gives a shit, no siree she’s asking so she can open the gate and let her ego in.
How would our readers recognise this mum?
Ahhh she’ll be stood in the middle of the playground, talking loudly with an audience.
Basking in her own sunshine of self-praise, and love of her own voice. She tells everyone who accidentally falls into the circle of bored people, how she’s just pulled her place of work from rock bottom to an award-winning company.
How she’s waiting for her BAFTA nomination to arrive in the post. She’ll pause, momentarily unfortunately not long enough for you to get away.
She’s just pausing to draw breath before letting her vocal cords get back in full swing, telling all
un-interested parties how she manages all the above, whilst juggling trips to the hairdressers, spa and nail bar.
Fast forward the next morning. And you’ll see her heading towards you. Don’t panic, she won’t stop. She doesn’t see you, in fact, she doesn’t even know you!
This Mum is the one driving her ego into the car park disguised as a big fuck off 4 x 4.
She’s the ‘friendly’ Mum dripping in jewellery gained from the commission for hosting a party. Not the drunken late-night proper parties we all love…..or I love!
I’m talking about the overpriced jewellery/candle/kitchenware parties, where everyone gets an invite and all us clueless party virgins pile round to pay way over the odds for crap you can get in Debenhams for half the price.
Sorry Mummy Buck, but surely you don’t have to buy?
What are you serious? Would you want to be the only tight arse not buying!
Remember the Party Queen didn’t just buy all those nibbles and drink just so you could spend fuck all.
You will spend the whole evening trying to find the CHEAPEST thing in the glossy brochure, while you wonder if the kids can last on spaghetti hoops and chicken fingers next week while you blow the ‘food-budget’ on jewellery wipes or a miniature grater for chocolate.
The pain is further intensified with conversations as dull as dishwater and stifled laughs with sympathetic bursts of ‘oh dahling’ for the lesser amongst us.
Honestly, you gotta believe it. The key point about this mum is, she doesn’t want to be your friend, well not unless you have a worthy status, happen to be a CEO or your husband is of a standing in the community. She just wants the commission from your sale.
Ask yourself this, when was the last time you spoke to one of these Party Mums post party?
She tends to be best buddies with the Jackanory Mum. Sorry, I keep yawning, it must be all this talk about the Party Queen.
No matter what she wears, she wears it like Kate Moss. She can rock up in creased as fuck trackies, baggy t-shirt, DM boots and still look like she’s just stepped off the catwalk.
She’s effortless. Her hair thrown up in a loose, shaggy ponytail looking fab and no makeup. She doesn’t need it. She oozes style that one.
I tried this look once? I mean how hard could it be I thought. After all, I had all the required creased as fuck clothing in the ironing pile and Daddy Buck has plenty of big t-shirts.
This was by no means, easy or effortless. It was an effort, REAL effort. My bloody arm ached trying to get my ‘casual’ ponytail right. My trousers looked like I’d just grabbed them out the ironing pile, right from the bottom and Daddy Bucks baggy t-shirt had the bloody slogan ‘Things to DO With Pussies’ all over it.
When I strolled into the kitchen, trying out my new cool attire, the kids all laughed, asking when I was getting ready.
Marvel Mummy’s kitchen is where all the action takes place. Her Kitchen Aid is on full vibration all the time, and the air is thick with smells of homemade creations, scones, bread, cinnamon whirls and not forgetting Jonnies home-made pizza is in the oven.
In between all this, she’ll be making the Taj-Mahal out of paper Mache while listening to Jonnie read chapter and verse of Great Expectations, as his pizza cooks.
Her kids are perfect. They popped out the womb, no pain relief required, smelling of roses.
Wow, sounds like she has perfect kids, what a lucky Mummy she is.
Lucky? Mm, I’m not sure its luck its more hoodwinked I think. I’ve found her kids are usually the ones causing the most trouble. While Mummy’s busy ‘not noticing’ what her littler ‘cherubs’ are up to.
As my Mum, Grandma Buck would say ‘there’s none so blind as those that don’t want to see.
Anyway, let’s not go there….just yet, that’s for another interview.
Come back next week for the final installment of Mummy Buck and The Housewives of School Gates.