One of the girls is in a dress.
The other is in shorts and is carrying a rugby ball.
The one in the middle, is just that, somewhere in the middle, she has a sparkly top with a jeweled hair clip, jeans and converse sneakers.
"So what happens at the social?" I ask.
"We dance" says the dress.
"We play football" says the shorts.
"You're going to have a hard time tackling in that dress" giggles the little brother, he sees his role as the entertainer.
They all roll their eyes.
There is talk about high heels, they are deemed unnecessary. Someone at school has them already, will she wear them? There is talk about Facebook, one's already signed up, one "doesn't have the time" and one's Mummy won't let her until she's thirteen. "I'm not sure if I want to though" I try not to smile. For I am the Mummy.
I ask the shorts if she thinks she'll join her sister at boarding school.
"What's that?" asks the dress from Indonesia.
"It's where you go to school and then you sleep there as well."
"Oh, kind of like the movie Wild Child?"
I jump in quickly "nope, I don't think it's like Wild Child - I think it's more like Harry Potter"
Please God let it be more like Harry Potter, I'd prefer oversized snakes and wizards than mini skirts and heavy eyeliner.
I know - it's a fantasy.
Even Hermoine couldn't escape the heavy eyeliner.
At the gate we discuss times, phone calls and pick ups. They are all beautiful. I watch for just that little bit too long as she enters the gate. Her pony tail swishes in the distance. I know she's uncertain and sometimes lost, but she's determined to find out more. She's learning the language, and making her way into a new world.
It's new territory for all us. One minute I'm driving, I'm listening, I'm directing.
The next, I can only look on from a distance.