At around midday yesterday, I was happily driving along in my car, relishing my child-free morning, and enjoying listening to MY music in peace.
I was on a narrow country lane and thinking about the gorgeous winter coat I was about to buy for myself, when I had to pull in to let an oncoming minibus past.
As it passed me, I realised that it was the school minibus, and that Betty was on it with her classmates. They were coming back from a morning out at another school. It's one thing for your four-year-old to be at school and playing with beads and plasticine, but to meet her out and about, and doing things independently of you, is very weird.
I burst into tears (I don't think the minibus passengers saw). And I didn't stop crying until I had reached town and had my new coat in my arms.