I needed to pop into town for a few things on Saturday. My heart sank when Mrs M said she’d like to come too as she needed to get herself some new clothes and also some for the kids. I knew right there and then, that my entire afternoon had just disappeared.
We parked up and Mrs M took Amelia in one direction whilst I took Harry in the other. “Meet you outside Costa in half an hour” she said.
Harry and I strode purposefully toward the Post Office, where the inevitable queue kept us waiting for fifteen minutes. A quick stroll to the bank and the compulsary ineludible visit to Maplin’s and I was done. Had I been on my own, I would have headed home at that point.
Harry and I sat down at a table outside Costa and waited. And waited. And waited. We were just running out of “Eye spy with my little eye…” subjects when the girls finally turned up. I noted the lack of carrier bags in Mrs M’s hands. “They haven’t got anything” she moaned. “They haven’t got anything I like and I can’t find bugger all for Amelia. Let’s try Next”.
“Oh good, my favourite shop”, I said, putting as much apathy into my voice as I could, in the vain hope that she’d show some mercy and decide we could go home. But it fell on deaf ears as she was already on a beeline for her favourite clothes shop, with Amelia in tow.
When Harry and I eventually caught up with them, Mrs Masher had already picked several dresses out for Amelia and had them slung over her shoulder as she continued going through the rails in search of several more. “Harry needs a new shirt for the party next week”, she said. “Can you take him over to the boys section and get him one please?” she asked.
Harry and I walked the short way over to the boy’s shirts. There was a blue and white checked one with short sleeves that looked OK. I picked it up from the rail. “Do you like this one, Harry?” He nodded. I checked the label and was pleased to see it was his size. We walked back over to the girls. I doubt it had taken anymore than a minute and a half. Mrs M and Amelia were arguing over whether a blue floral print dress looked better than a yellow one and whether Amelia should wear a dress or go in trousers as she wanted. Eventually, in a fit of temper, Mrs M threw most of it back on the rails, grabbed Amelia by the wrist and stormed into the changing rooms with just two items to try on. Harry and I waited patiently outside.
Clutching his little blue and white shirt, Harry looked up at me and asked “Daddy, why do girls take so long?”
“Get used to it, mate”, I said. “You’ve got a lot more to come.”
After about five minutes, the girls emerged from the changing room. Mrs M handed the two garments to the girl attendant. “I’ve had enough. Let’s go home”, she said.
We arrived home three and a half hours after leaving.
We’d bought a shirt.