We had one of those moments today.
Being a bad busy, working mother, I know the drive to Flea's pre-school takes precisely 9 minutes. It should take 7, but the average age is in Lytham is about 95, so there are a lot of slow drivers to contend with.
This means Flea and I can wake up at 8.35am, get dressed and be in the car for 8.51am. The nine minute journey is ample time for Flea to eat her breakfast (usually some cereal with raisins or blueberries) and still get to pre-school ahead of circle time.
However, school broke up a fortnight ago (wretched private schools) so Flea's moved to a day nursery for the summer. Crucially, the nursery is only 6 minutes drive from the house. This morning, we woke up and got dressed as per the usual schedule, and Flea got her cereal and took it to the car. But the timing was all wrong, and she was only halfway through the cereal as we pulled into the car park.
"Never mind, darling, you can have them later," I said, chucking Cheerios over the back seat and rushing her inside.
"But I haven't finished my breakfast," she complained, loudly enough for all the staff and other mothers dropping off their properly fed children to hear.
Eyebrows were raised.
I tried to pass it off as a one-off, with a little laugh. "Oh, it's just one of those mornings. Flea had to have cereal in the car!" (Because every other day, it's toast and table linens, obviously.)
Then Flea chipped in: "Yes, when you have cereal in the car, you have to have it in a cup not a bowl, so it doesn't spill when Mummy drives fast, and you can't have milk. That's why I like cereal bars."
You could have heard a pin drop.
Turns out, not everyone gives their kid breakfast in a cup, in the back of the car. Who'd have thought?