Tonight was Molly's parent's evening.
Off we trundled to school, perched ourselves on the way too small chairs, sat at the uncomfortably low table and listened to her teacher give us a lovely, positively glowing review of what Molly's like.
Which we knew of course, but it's always nice to hear other people say it.
What is always amusing is the reports we get about how nice a child Molly can be. This happened at her old school as well; she's never been one to have just one best friend and always seems to be the focal point of lots of friendships. She's also credited with being a wonderful peacemaker in the playground, helping to resolve all the problems that come with 7 year old girls and the daily fallings out that ensue. I've now got this lovely mental image of my daughter in the middle of the playground in blue UN helmet co-ordinating the peace talks between two sets of girls, with Molly as the only friendship link between them.
Made me smile.
Not unrelated to the previous post on Larkin I suppose, given that we desperately try not to be the sort of parents who push too hard, who seem destined to be hated by their children. We want to be the parents who don't fuck it up basically. A vain hope really, I'm sure; given that Molly's temperament is remarkably similar to mine at times. But we do try.