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A personal shopper

October 30, 2015

Taking a small person shopping is always an adventure, and often hard work … but frequently extremely funny as the honest and insightful observations can be very to the point!

I hate shopping, I’m bad at it, it makes me anxious and frankly the hoovering (which is done very rarely) is more appealing.

Anyway, if I need to go shopping I always end up taking small person with me as wasting work time during her nursery days seems too indulgent … so, a week or so back I tore a hole in my last intact bra so decided I needed a new one. I bought it a few years back and was awed by the assistance in Bravissimo so I headed back there again, I figured they sell bras that are built to last and built to stand small person abuse, and it wasn’t a stressful place to shop.

She came in with me, we were ushered down to the changing rooms and the lovely Amy headed off to find something suitable. Small person decided it was time for milky, seeing as my chest was exposed … she then stopped abruptly as Amy reappeared draped with lacy underwear and very carefully inspected every item.

“try that one Mama”, “no that not good”, “I want you have pretty bra like Auntie Annie”, “Yes that nice colour”, “I don’t like that bow”, “Milkies not like being in that bra get it off”.

Amy ran too and fro as we sorted through and tried on a lace mountain. Small one slurped and supervised in equal measure … the whole thing was exhausting!

We got there in the end and she pronounced to the assistant who took payment that, “my milkies will be happy in their new bra, my Mummy has big milkies you know” … so it was with a flushed face that I fled out into the street.

I should have learnt from the experience … but I didn’t! I noticed that my leg hair was down to my ankles and that generally my lower region resembled that of a baboon … we’re going swimming fairly regularly now so I decided I needed a wax, not a big one, I’m not into those, but a general tidy up seemed in order.

We went to playgroup and afterwards, she bribed with a magazine full of pink stickers, we found a place to get me pruned and plucked. Turned out they only took cash so we had to walk out back to the bank to the cash point.

We bumped into a friend, a male friend, a few yards along the road. He gave her a hug, kissed me on the cheek and asked what we were up to, “oh just a bit of shopping, nothing much”, I started to say … then she piped up, “my mummy is getting waxed, she’s getting her fanny waxed … she has a hairy bottom, Stacey is going to wax it all better”…

I have never blushed so much in all my life … “oh yes relaxing is so important”, I mumbled in a desperate effort to distract her and to make him think he’d misheard what she’d said. “Yes, my Mummy is having her bottom waxed”, she continued, “and I have a magazine”. I couldn’t make eye contact with him, and he didn’t know what to say or where to look!

“Right then, come on little one, let’s go to the bank”, I shoved her forward along the road waving goodbye as we went.

I couldn’t stop giggling after that and have been anxious ever since about what she was going to say … thankfully the excitement seems to be past and she’s not told anyone else!

Not quite sure what to say next time I run into him though!!


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