Christmas Shopping
Afternoon troops – well, after such an exciting weekend, how could Hubby and I top it but for a trip to the unfeasibly large shopping centre for a touch of Christmas shopping. Leaving B, especially in the mood she’s in at the moment, was more than a little worrying and we had a little pep talk first about not eating anything in the kitchen, and not doing anything unsociable on the floor until we got back. She put her best ‘what, me?’ look on and we fled to the car. The place was heaving and after driving round and round the car park getting more and more annoyed, we eventually parked about four miles from the shops and hoofed it back in the rain.
Basically, after buying half of HMV, Virgin and Game we stopped in MacDonalds for a Big Mac, large fries, chocolate milkshake and strawberry and custard pie (as you do) to lament the passing of our boys’ childhoods. Hubby was devastated that Christmas shopping no longer entails trips to Toys’R'Us to purchase totally unsuitable toys like massive Meccano cranes that he pretends are for the children but really he just wants to play with himself. Mind you, he’s not averse to the odd computer game himself and I noticed a couple of extras being purchased when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Christmas shopping is extra difficult this year as we’re off on holiday with my Mum. Well, we don’t know a soul here and short of shipping our whole family over to spend Christmas with, it seemed easier to go and get a bit of sunshine instead. Hubby’s job makes it difficult to get away in the summer anyway. Trouble is, that means no unsuitable Meccano sets and certainly no ‘Make Your Own Atomic Bomb’ chemistry sets as the customs men wouldn’t be too impressed. Good old Father Christmas will still be leaving things under the tree (oh yes, we’ve still got to have a tree, we’re just having it early instead) but our own pressies will have to be small and x-ray machine proof. No easy task I can assure you.
Anyhoo, five hours later and B’s worst crime was the ripping up of a Lidl carrier bag and stashing the little pieces in her bed, so we were well pleased. She obviously realised that we were pleased because she did her little doggy dance and gave us a full wag, or maybe even two of her spindly tail. You wouldn’t think so but this is the B equivalent of hyperventilating with excitement. We took her out and she did a big poo to celebrate. ‘Ah’, said Hubby, ‘that’s where all the grapes went then’.
