There are a couple of mums at the school gate who would give Lady Catherine de Bourgh a run for her money in the haughty stakes.

They sneer rather than smile a hello; expect you to open doors for them without a hint of a thank you and generally carry themselves with a condescending air.

In truth I find them intimidating – and yet, the needy side of me desperately wants them to acknowledge I actually exist.

I hate to admit it but I do fawn a little over them each time I’m lucky enough to set foot in their orbits.

Master A came home on Friday with a note in his bag announcing that not only was there an outbreak of nits at the school but there was evidence of worms, too. Just what you want to read when you’re about to tuck into a bowl of Singapore noodles after a hard day at work.

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There’s not a week goes by when there’s not one outbreak or another. It’s got to the point where I’m on first name terms with my local chemist as I grab the latest lotion, potion or tablet needed to evict a parasite.

I checked Master A for signs of the unwanted guests and breathed a sigh of relief when none were to be found. But to be on the safe side I decided to stock up on the cure-alls.

Like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, I zipped into the chemist knowing exactly what shelf I would find what I was looking for.

A voice pierced through the low hum of the store: “Will you please stop scratching!”

There, in the nit aisle was one of Her Haughtinesses, accompanied by a violently head-scratching offspring. She was comparing Hedrin Treat And Go with Full Marks Solution Spray.

On seeing us, she suddenly dropped the bottles and began to walk towards us, a sheepish smile on her face.

This was my moment.

I grabbed Master A’s hand and pulled him away, saying loudly: “Come along, I don’t want you to catch anything.”

Working Mum, knowing it’s wrong but still taking pleasure in scoring a minor point.