Uh-oh

Have you ever schlepped round the supermarket for an hour or so, loaded your trolley with about £200-worth of stuff, got all the way through the check-out, then realised that your bank card is in the pocket of your jeans and not in your wallet? And that your jeans are, of course, languishing over the back of a chair in your bedroom instead of wrapped around your bottom because today ‘seemed like a skirt-day’? Well, dear reader, that was me yesterday. One of those pure cheek-reddening, bowel loosening, wanna go pee-pee moments. To make matters worse I had the Pickle in tow and I had just told him I was not going to buy him the cute teddy bear slippers he had fallen in love with. So I had the begging and pleading going on round my trembling knees - …‘pleeeeeease mummeeeee! I looooove them! I reeeeally want them! I won’t be your friend any more if you don’t buy them!’… you know the drill. Meanwhile the queue behind me is starting to get a little restless as I hastily rummage in my handbag, craning for a better view as my face gets ever more beetroot-coloured and I inevitably decide I need to dump out the entire contents just in case I did remember to slip the card back into the bag as I was going to bed then let the event slip out of my mind; stranger things have happened. Thankfully no tampons or condoms immerged, but the studded dog collar and gimp mask raised an eyebrow or two... just kidding Mum! Luckily I had my English bank card on me AND I could remember the pin number so we were saved and could scuttle away before Pickle could start up the ‘I need a wee-wee’ chant. Phew!

Since then, Pickle has been examining the Chinese calendar we were given by the local takeaway. It lists the different animal years and we have been able to work out that Poppet was born in the Year Of The Dragon, Nobby and Pickle are both Year Of The Horse, and I’m a Dog (Year Of The, do you mind?) But Pickle is not happy. Having seen that he could have been a Monkey or a Snake he has decided that Horses are boring and he wants to change his year. I have gently informed him that he can’t change the year he was born in so he has come up with an alternative solution which he’s decided he can live with. The Year Of The Horse is now the Year Of The Zebra. ‘Because a zebra is a type of horse, isn’t it Mum?’ You can’t argue with Kid-Logic; just nod sagely and agree with everything.

Oh and finally, Nobby has given me Athlete’s Foot. What a kind, generous bugger. He says he didn’t know it was contagious. Personally I didn’t know it was so blummin’ painful. But Nobby reckons I only caught it because he’s such a fun-gi (guy) to be with… (cue Basil Brush laughter, boom boom!)