So to set the scene, I'm not trying to stereotype, but I don't fit the dance mum clique, and nor does my lass but bless her she doesn't realise this, yet)

In we go to tiny packed dance waiting room..

Dance teacher: hi dd how was your easter?

Dd: (jumping up and down ) pammy pammy !!! We went to Switzerland!!! And, and ... my brother threw up on the train!!

Teacher (recoil) oh dear

Me: altitude sickness

Teacher: oh OK, how high were you

Dd confidently says 11ft! (ffs)

At this point all the parents and kids are fully tuned in laughing

Dd says, actually, we haven't seen (ss) since have we ?! trying to work out why in her tiny bonce

Silence from the court and a massive question mark in air..

I'm like what ? Huh?

Oh.. I see how that sounded. I didn't throw him off the mountain or owt. He's home fine, just sick with something else now. Grin and retreat, keep grinning and retreating ... then bm, as soon as she took custody of her sickly son, couldn't wait to email putting boot in and showing off. That's another story...

Booting him off mountain would've been so much easier hey?!