Today I did the sort of shopping that I absolutely HATED when I was a kid, I had to be physically dragged around town on the verge of a tantrum, keeping the yells at bay only on the promise of a comic (Bunty) and sweets (Tooty Fruitees) if I was good.
It was shopping for useful things that you can only find in grown-up shops that sell no toys and no fun things at all.
We needed a bath mat (with a non-slip bottom… otherwise what’s the point? You’d just use a towel, surley), harder to get hold of than you’d think! Plus oven gloves, but not really good expensive ones as I KNOW that in less than a fortnight they’ll have been set alight, dropped in the washing-up bowl and covered in a selection of sauces, casseroles and curries.
I was everso good, so where’s my comic and sweets?!