Morag from Manama

I can't help it, I’ve tried to hold myself back and my good friend that calls me ‘Moaning Morag’ is going to love this but I need to have my first RANT of the year I would say that a rant is somewhat different to a moan, or is it?

Oh, I don’t really know, I’m confusing myself … I’ll just get on with it, shall I? Since moving to Bahrain, we have all made some lovely friends (OK, to be honest) some awful ones too. Our children have successfully developed several friendships with even some much-loved ‘besties’ found.

Of course, this is a major crux to a positive expat experience, no matter what age of child. So as parents we are naturally relieved when our children ask if their new ‘bestie’ can come over and, before you know it, sleepovers and trips to the movies have been arranged.

Of course, the taxi services of mum & dad are frequently required and that I’m totally fine with - apart from, here I go, this is the rant.

When I pick-up, or drop off, one of my kid’s friends, maybe after having had them over for the entire weekend, the parents of the child I have had in my care for the past 24-hours have the audacity to send a maid to open the door even though they know I am standing there waiting to meet them for the first time.

Cars are in the driveway and I think I just caught a glimpse of one of them through a chink in the door. At this point, I’m standing on my tippy-toes, waving and shouting: ‘Hi, I’m Oliver’s mum’ just as the door closes.

I want to ring the bell, demand an introduction but then I think better of it, plus I’m already getting the ‘look’ from my child sat waiting in the car. I just don’t get it? There is no excuse! It’s rude and ill-mannered and no, it doesn’t matter which nationality you are.

Don’t blame it on culture and I don’t care what job they do either. I would simply like to make some sort of contact with them as our children are hanging out with each other and that does not mean sending them to my house with a driver and the only communication comes via their 10-year child.

And, please, don’t drop off your child yourself and speed away as fast as you can to avoid meeting me. I’ve grown terribly fond of a child who spends a lot of time at our place. I know all about his family members and their lives even though we have never met or spoken a single word to each other.

Maybe, I have different values and priorities? I don’t really know. I just don’t like it.