It was a seemingly harmless remark in our P&C meeting this week that started it all. With numbers dwindling, we were discussing how to rope-in unsuspecting parents to join the team. Our lovely but (apparently) insane principal suggested that each current member simply bring a friend to the next meeting. I immediately recoiled in horror. “Bring a friend”. What kind of garbage solution is that?

Now, I’m not saying that making friends as an adult is impossible, or that the last two years have driven me to full-blown reclusive weirdo status with questionable bra-wearing capabilities. But I’m not NOT saying that. And this lunatic’s plan for each of us to make a new friend at school in the next four weeks has some flaws.

Mainly, that we’re physically banned from school and it’s hard to strike up a conversation with someone standing 1.5 metres away from you. Add to that, the lack of assemblies, “welcome” morning teas, limited playdates and parties, and it’s no wonder I don’t have a single school friend that isn’t someone I met through Miss 13’s schooling, pre-COVID.

So I launched “Operation Make a Friend” by anxiously sending out messages on social media to names I recognise from online learning. Understandably ignored by most, I strike up a chat with a parent who is either too nice to tell me to get lost, or they are keen to make friends too. So I instruct Miss 7 to play nicely with their child and invite them out for coffee.

Upon waking, “morning me” instantly regrets “yesterday me’s” audacity and I have a minor panic attack while listening to a delusional Miss 13 argue that a bread roll stuffed full of grated cheese is a good choice for breakfast. I explain that I don’t have time to argue and we need to leave on time because I’m meeting a new friend at a café. “What do you mean?” asks a confused Miss 7, who hasn’t stepped foot in a café or restaurant for two years now.

“Restrictions have all lifted, so Mum’s going to drink coffee at a table in the actual café” explained Miss 13. “It’s like an inconvenient Menulog.”

Although that’s a hilarious but accurate description, and this is a humorous column, I have a moment of sadness for our children who adapted so well they barely remember the freedom of the “before times”. The moment passes and we all burst out laughing when Miss 7 asks incredulously, “Does that mean Mum will put on a BRA?”

Bra on, and kids at school, I drink delicious coffee while it’s still hot and quickly get over my new-found social anxiety. Ninety minutes, two mochas, and endless laughter about our children’s antics later, and I’m pretty sure I’ve actually made a new friend. I walk back to the car imagining not only a year’s worth of playdates but also my triumphant moment at the next P&C moment when I produce said new friend. I give myself a quick talking to about not ruining this yet. Next step: remembering how to not scare-off friends with rampant uncoolness. Fingers crossed!