There's always an excuse...

One morning earlier this week little H and me were preparing to go to our weekly mother and child pilates class. We were running late (what a surprise) and I was determined to take the new Super Car.

As Pappa Kas will confirm I have been postponing driving alone with Little H in the (Super) Car for weeks.I have made many excuses some more silly than others, but for me walking 8km with the pram to get some exercise instead of taking the car is a very valid one. The muffin top needs to be shaken now and then, and especially now when the festive season is coming up.

The excuse for not making Pilates on Tuesday, the REAL one, I promise, cross my heart, was that I could not get the garage door open. Seriously, I could not open the gate. It was really stuck. I have seen Pappa Kas do a hit and push trick earlier, but not bothered to learn it. But now when I also realized that the garage door was the portal, not only to a comfy mode of transport in icy weather, but also the gate to warmth and coziness- all our firewood is in that garage, it became more important to be able to get hold of the treasures.
No firewood to snuggle in front of the fireplace, no car to drive to pilates? What to do? I sent a message to my fellow pilates mummies and told the truth – car, garage, stuck, impossible – but also: “coffee after the class? We’re out walking anyway...”. A bit shameful we arrived at the café before everyone else, so when they arrived, smug after downward dogs and baby massage, it looked like we had been sitting there all morning. I promise we had just arrived; the half drunk decaff-Soy-mocca in front of me must have belonged to someone else…