In the spirit of 'when the going gets tough'.......I went shopping. On Valentines day in preparation for our uprooting to Sri Lanka (5 days later). I needed shoes, next size up shoes. Good leather children's shoes are hard to come by, or so I am reliably informed. So off to the shops.
I carried my 'not particularly small' all terrain buggy UP stairs in Clarkes, then DOWN stairs in Startrite to try and find sandals for the two children. (discovered All Terrain buggies don't do stairs) I don't know why I bring the buggy anymore (except for me to sit in when I've had enough) My daughter insisted, loudly of course, on walking everywhere. She has a serious shoe fetish and was in Heaven, I was somewhere slightly different. She tried on all the shoes she could lay hands on, feeling particularly drawn to some very large, very hairy moon boots in Startrite, and removed all the shoes from the neatly organised displays. Couldn't find any sandals in the right size. Abort Project Sandal.
We then went to buy a daypack from Blacks. My 2 'little darlings' tried on 7 different rucksacks each, which I had to help them with putting on, whilst trying to engage a shop assistant in intelligent conversation about the merits of back flow ventilation systems and waist belts etc.
Then on to a department store to get 2 suitcases. More earnest discussions about durability, zips versus locks, wheelabiity etc interspersed with the shop assistant teling my son not to try out the handles, not to climb on the suitcases and me shooting off midsentence to rescue my daughter from heading off to "china and glassware" at the speed of a very excited unleashed rabbit. How I got home on the bus with buggy, two children and wheeling two suitcases, each of which could fit the 2 children in ( I know because my husband (M) proved it......) I have no idea. Oh well, in Sri Lanka I'd have been in a Tuk tuk so I should be thankful for small mercies! Little did I know.
All in all probably the most stressful shopping experience I can remember having, (with the exception of a Boden town hall sale of course..) So in the supermarket without children, was quite a relaxing antidote. Though it had its moments, (armed with inside info about what was hard to come by in Colombo) I was stocking up on packs and packs of ground coffee and industrial quantities of tampax, with the inevitable man behind me in the checkout queue who must have been thinking, 'boy this woman needs to see a doctor, .....and a dietician..'.
Went home to stare mesmerised at more boxes and wonder what to do first. Actually I'm lying, I opted out out and went to get my haircut. I feel moving house, country, continent is a bit like the childbirth conspiracy. If anyone told you what it was really like, you'd never go through with it..........
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