Sewing J’s name-tags onto his school uniform has always been a bit of a pain.
There’s a strict protocol at his school about their size and position. The task demands skill and ingenuity. Have you ever tried sewing half-inch thick name tags into elasticated socks?
At times, I admit, I’ve flunked it. I’ve released my inner-Chav and inscribed his initials with my David Beckham marker pen.
name tag
No more. After helping (?) to get the children changed for football club, I’m a convert.
Matching fifteen little people with a plethora of socks, shorts, knee-pads, and other assorted bits of kit, is not easy. Nor is putting the bits of discarded uniform back in the right bags.
There’s probably only one thing harder. Marshalling fifteen hyper-charged Mini Rooneys (and their assorted sports and prep bags) to the pitch without any casualties. Trust me, you’re doing well if all you lose is the odd stray sock.
Needless to say my stress levels shot through the roof (give me a nice easy corporate take-over any day).
I found myself desperately searching for labels. (It’s funny how my best cross-examination just doesn’t work with three year-olds). Worse, I found myself understanding why teachers make such a big thing out of name labels.
So I’m a convert to labels, even for socks. Tonight, I’m going to settle down with a large G & T and, finally, penitently, get my sewing box out.
