Uniform adj remaining the same in all cases and at all times; unchanging in form or character. Uniformity noun quality or state of being uniform.
Mummy has decided that in her old age, she rather likes Uniformity. For example, when organising the household and tending to the Terrors, Mummy prefers everything to be Uniform in nature. When loading the dishwasher, the plates and bowls must be placed facing a certain direction. And when filling the cupboards, tins of equal height should all be aligned. She likes the days and even the weeks to run in a regimented fashion – meal plans must rotate religiously, sleep patterns must replicate without fail and toileting routines must “run” on schedule. Call Mummy anal. Call Mummy boring. She doesn’t care. It makes her life substantially easier.
So when it comes to the incredibly uniform thing that is School Uniform, Mummy is all over it. She may not be the hottest on the iron, but that’s irrelevant these days, for with the prevalence of non-iron uniform, ironing has become incredibly 1980’s. Indeed, she may not be the quickest when it comes to tackling the ever burgeoning pile of washing either, but what of it? Thanks to our favourite supermarkets monopolising the budget uniform market, Mummy need not do any washing for at least five consecutive days. In fact, Mummy can afford to buy a fresh set for each day of the week and ditch the dirty pants until the weekend. Such are the marvels of Uniformity.
Can you imagine then the horror that Mummy faced when, on Day Four of her very uniform five-day week, it was brought to her attention that it was in fact Own Sodding Clothes Day. On Day frigging Five. And to make matters worse, this Own Clothes Day did not conform to the uniformity of the Own Clothes Days Mummy grew up with in #theblackandwhitedays. This was Glow Day: a chance to wear the brightest, most excrutiatingly neon clothes one could find, in any crazy colour and in any sadistic combination. A fantastic cause indeed it was – raising awareness and lots of money for the Child Brian Injury Trust – but in that moment, Mummy couldn’t see past the bright flashing lights going awol inside her head signalling the onset of one of her migraines. In that moment, Mummy couldn’t cope with the colour crisis that was already crippling her. In that moment, Mummy’s very Uniform Life was in tatters.
For in Mummy’s black, white and grey world, she can but dream of shocking pink Dr Martins, rainbow striped unicorn cardigans and multi-coloured flap-up sequinned tops that only Terrors Tots these days can get away with. And what had in actual fact happened here, was that Mummy’s #miserablecow, #grimreaper status had clearly rubbed off on her offspring, and was evident in the monotony of their very own black, white and grey “capsule” (AKA limited) wardrobes. Had Mummy sucked the colour out of their lives? Had she selfishly stolen their youth? Not a single colour of any consequence, or one that hadn’t faded in the wash, was to be found.
And as if that wasn’t enough to send Her and her Dependents over the edge, it quickly became clear that children grow quicker than one can ever imagine. And the single brightly coloured tee that was a “baggy fit” only a week ago, was now a tinsy-bitsy crop top, that even the most lenient Head Teacher would deem inappropriate to wear to the beach. Mummy began to question how children have the audacity to grow during the night and resolved not to feed them until tomorrow, in the hope that they might shrink before the night was over.
Despite being blackmailed in to allowing breakfast, Mummy managed to survive Glow Day with the help of some distastefully large rainbow coloured JoJo bows and a conglomeration of mismatched neon plastic accessories. And in order to prevent accidents like this happening ever again, Mummy has now added Uniformity of a different sort into her life. The Terror Tots now have cupboards brimming with pants, tops, dresses and skirts, five of each, in every colour of the rainbow. Just to be on the safe side.