I took the girls into town to buy their new school shoes this morning. It is a yearly ritual most parents go through. In the early years it sparked much excitement and happiness. Now it just seems to test how close to the edge of insanity I am, and will a few hours in town be enough to push me over.
Get there early. Take a number. Wait. Listen to your children sigh. And sigh. And ask how much longer it will take, again and again. Get their feet measured. Get told that neither of them have had any significant growth in their feet since last September. Buy them new shoes knowing, without the shadow of a doubt, that their feet probably started growing about that instant. How on earth does a nine year old's feet not grow for a full year?!
Eventually escape the shoe shop and run the other errands. Stupidly (Yes, I shall admit that the following is very, very stupid.) agree to let them wait in the pet shop while I went into the butcher. What was I thinking?!!
Spend the rest of the day telling them why you don't think them getting some gerbils is a good idea. Including their outstanding idea that they share a room and the gerbils get Helen's room. The two children who have barely had a civil word to say to each other all week. Um, yeah, that's a great idea! Finally crack and tell them that they can ask their father, tomorrow, when I am not home. His turn to be badgered endlessly. Best idea I have had all week.