As a stay-at-home mum, I sometimes forget which day of the week it is. No disrespect to my own brain cells nor indeed those of any other hard working stay-at-home parent. Quite to the contrary, the job is full time enough to overshadow seeming irrelevancies such as what day or date it might be.
Yesterday was a Saturday. Which turned out not to be so irrelevant after all.
Before embarking on future shopping trips to my local (much loved) Westfield shopping centre in Stratford, I must remember to check. Especially in the run up to consumerism-heavy Christmas.
Believe what you will about the current economic crisis. Westies was packed, and not just with window shoppers. Even the tills at the brilliantly staffed John Lewis department store were heaving. I was/am still recovering from a tonsillectomy (sorry to go on about it but yesterday was only day 11 of the much publicised two-week recovery) and what I suspect to be withdrawal from the Tramadol pain killers and I should probably have known better than to visit a busy shopping centre with the boyfriend and two kids on a Saturday afternoon.
Needless to say we spent a hellish couple of hours during which Mademoiselle, our one-year-old cried pretty much non stop, her big sister demanded lots of pink stuff, and we didn’t even manage to find shoes for either of them which had been the whole point of the expedition. I should add that the arduous nature of the visit was made worse as it followed an exhausting morning comprising the weekly ballet class, a children’s birthday party and heavy negotiations over lunch with the girls.
I wished I had never agreed to come.
And then, as we were wandering around the lingerie department looking for a new post-breastfeeding bra, someone with a big beard, a big belly and a loud laugh came and made everything ok again.
It was Father Christmas accompanied by one of his elves.
The elf was carrying a basket of sweeties and gave our big kid and I a lollipop each. Santa promised to bring us all toys for Christmas, as long as we were good until then.
I promise to be very very good indeed. As long as that doesn’t mean staying away from chocolate.