It’s raining again. It rained all morning and little B had her long nose glued to the window when we woke up, possibly in the vain hope that today was the day she was going to catch her first rabbit. As it happened, she was nearly right!

First, though, the time had come for us to make the dreaded school uniform shopping trip. The school the offspring are going to has a uniform list slightly shorter than Schindler’s, and armed with our plastic and two very huffy children, we set off.

We decided to try and visit the enormous shopping centre that a few people had told us about. This called for a bit of motorway driving (difficult as my Mother and I both talk a lot and we always miss the exit we need: ‘oh, was that junction 7? Yes, that was the one we wanted’). The M50 toll was fun though - you throw your money at a basket as you’re driving through - like a sort of drive-by shooting without the violence. Very entertaining.

Anyway, we managed to get most of the clothing without spilling blood (more bloodshed later), and I resisted the temptation to beat both of my children to death with a coat hanger in Marks and Spencer when they whined about trying things on, although it must be like shopping with two mothers as we both say the same things and have the same aversion to changing rooms (’just try them on here..go on, take your trousers off, no-one’s looking’). After the torture that was shoe shopping, we rallied with the football boots and pencil cases, and made it home still speaking (just).

This just leaves:

2 x pairs wellington boots
2 x hockey sticks
2 x riding back protector
2 x pairs proper riding boots (no furry moon boots then..)
2 x approved riding helmet (approved by whom I wonder?)

And you think I’m joking don’t you…

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