On Saturday, I took Mini-Me on what was intended to be the perfect Mother & Daughter day out.
With the recent arrival of her Little Sister, some quality-time was badly needed. As it turned out, it was more needed by Mummy than by Daughter.
The day was planned out in detail. We’d been talking about it all week.
We would go to the hairdresser, then to the shops.
Mini-Me would have sausages and chips; we’d collect the balloons for Princess’s Christening lunch.
Mummy would have coffee in her favourite coffee shop while Mini-Me would sip milk from a cute little milk bottle with a stripy straw.
We’d chitter and chatter, hold hands and skip from shop to shop.
It would be calm, relaxed and blissful.
We would take selfies that wouldn’t look out of place in a glossy mag.
Other mummies would look at us, in our matching coats, and think “Aaaawwww!”
And when it was over, we’d go home to Daddy and Princess and tell them all about Mammy and Mini-Me’s Day of Fun!
What actually happened was that a PMS-Crazed, sleep deprived Mummy took a post-chest-infection, over-tired Threenager into town…in the rain.
AND, there was a full moon…actually there were two.
Said Threenager began her tirade of strops and tantrums in the hairdresser. The angelic Hairdresser managed to trim her hair while I had mine blow-dried. When she began to protest because she wasn’t allowed to take a toy home from the basket of distractions in the corner, I was hugely grateful that the hairdresser intervened before I had to. She received the quite terrifying dirty looks that only my daughter can throw, but as with all toddlers, fighting with a stranger is no fun, so she conceded.
Only slightly embarrassed, we left, with Mini-Me promising she’d be good for the rest of the day.
She did have sausage and chips… which she ate while glaring at me because I’d committed the crime of stealing a chip. (I was actually making sure that they weren’t too hot. Next time, I’ll let her find out for herself will I? NO. I probably won’t.)
We went to collect the balloons, only to be told that the helium machine had broken before they started my order. Having no balloons for the christening lunch REALLY wasn’t a drama. Turns out… trying to leave the shop without balloons, really was a drama. Who knew? (In hindsight, I’m quite proud that I didn’t give in and buy her a balloon. Trust me…life would have been easier, but I couldn’t buy treats after the previous strops!)
I didn’t get the yummy coffee in my favourite cafe… their water was off. Granted, it was a bigger problem for the establishment than for me, but still. At this point, I imagined myself throwing a tantrum to see how she’d react. I didn’t. Instead, we went to a different cafe and I sipped on a crappy cappuccino.
I’d put crayons and a mini colouring pad into my handbag. She should have coloured in happily while I enjoyed my cuppa. The first crayon broke. The second one fell under the table and somehow disappeared. The Threenager refused to drink her hot chocolate until I told her that that made me happy because I’d drink it after my coffee.
I got 30 seconds of quiet time while she made sure Mammy couldn’t have it…
She drank it in one go.
I stared ahead, praying that the smell of the coffee would calm me down, cursing the full moon (I swear by this by the way!) and wondering if 4pm was too early to think about a glass of wine.
At this point, Hubby rang. I should really have listened to him and gone home there and then, but I had to pop into one other shop to return a dress.
I was flicking through a rail of dresses to find my size. Mini-me was at my side, humming to herself.
She stopped humming.
I glanced down to her.
Instead of her cheeky but adorable face, I saw her bare backside… wiggling in the air at me.
She sang “Shake-a-bootay! ” as she shook it.
I actually screamed.
My response was to pull up her tights and knickers and to fix her skirt, frantically whispering “You CANNOT do that!”
And then I left the shop, with Skinny Arse running behind me. I kept walking until I reached the car. All the while, Mini-Me was at my heels, repeating “Mammy? Mammy?” She was undecided as to whether she should be crying or throwing a tantrum. Her Threeness was suspicious of my lack of scolding. I think she was experiencing that fear that we all remember from when we were kids and Mother gave us the look.
In reality, I was mortified. I was annoyed that I’d taken my eyes off her long enough for her to commit the offence…and I was trying not to let her see me laughing!
As I strapped her in to her car seat, I asked her why she’d pulled down her tights in the shop.
“I just quite did.”
And that’s as good as I’m going to get.
We drove home.
It was getting dark.
There was a full moon.
This time, in the sky.
And it turns out, it wasn’t too early to think about wine.
When Hubby heard about our lunar fiasco, he opened the bottle for me!
I am Shake-a-bootay Mum
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