by Angharad
Nora’s visit had made us late, so late it was nearly lunch time. I made some sandwiches and we ate them then went shopping. It’s supposed to be what every girl loves–the same is said of chocolate, but you can only eat so much before you become sick literally, or sick of it–the same with shopping. Okay, it’s my own fault that I had two little helpers with me.
We did a couple of department stores, Mothercare and another specialist baby wear shop. It might have been easier if Stella had seen the ultrasound scan pictures, then instead of buying neutral things, we could have gone for boys’ or girls’ baby clothes. I got three babygros in white, lemon and pale green. I bought a couple of plainish matinee coats, some little bonnets, a large shawl, and on special offer–a baby box, with wipes and cream and various other bits and pieces.
The girls were very good, they helped me choose things, sometimes against my better judgement, like green babygro, but that’s life. They also helped me carry things back to the car.
Next stop the supermarket. They really enjoyed that, so did I. I tried to involve them in choosing meals for the next couple of days, but jelly and ice cream as the main course? I don’t think so, although Simon would probably go along with it. I did promise they could help me make a jelly one day soon and we bought the concentrate for the job.
With that lot stuffed in the boot, we did pop into the toy shop and I agreed they could buy one small toy each. Trish opted for a small furry thing which I suppose nearly resembled a cat, well as much as my dormouse did its epithet. Of course once Mima saw what Trish wanted, she had to have the same, only I persuaded her to have a different colour. Trish had a grey furry thing and Mima had an orange one.
As we drove home, I suggested they think of names for their felines, most cats I know would probably freak out if they thought they looked like the girls’ toys, but they liked them. A bit like mothers and babies.
When we got home, they had to show Simon their latest acquisitions. He immediately asked what they were called, and the response was lots of giggles.
I unloaded the car and took the baby stuff up to Stella. “Crikey, will I need all of this?”
“And more, what if Puddin’ is sick and poos him/herself on the same day?”
“I see. Will you help me change him?”
“No, you have to keep the one they give you, unless there’s a manufacturer’s guarantee which says otherwise. Besides, you’ll want to keep her.”
“Why are you so sure I’m having a girl.”
“I dunno, I just am.”
“So not just a miracle worker, but a psychic as well.”
“Yeah, I’m good value for money. They want me to part the Red Sea, while they look for archaeology.”
“Ooh, can I watch?”
“Nah, I turned it down, I have to keep putting out burning bushes.”
“Just keep taking the tablets, eh?”
“Oh, that is bad, Stella, even Simon would have come up with a better one than that.”
“Did you choose the green babygro?” she asked looking through the purchases.
“Um, not exactly, that was Mima’s idea.”
“I like it.”
“Be sure to tell her. She’ll be cock a hoop at that.”
“Don’t go much on the lemon one.”
“You can buy the next lot yourself.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Cathy, but I’m not that fond of yellow, in clothing.”
“Is that why you hit me off my bike?”
“Erm–were you wearing yellow?”
“Yes, bright yellow as in Saunier Duval team kit, a la Dave Millar.”
“Oh yes, Simon got you a replacement one.”
“Well you did sort of total the old one.”
“I didn’t, it was you who dived into the hedge.”
“Stella, you hit me up the arse at about thirty miles an hour, I was lucky there was a hedge, and a relatively soft one or you’d need a medium to talk to me, and may still be in prison for causing death by dangerous driving.”
“My driving isn’t dangerous.”
“No of course not, perfectly safe drivers knock harmless cyclists into hedgerows all the time.”
“It was very poor visibility and you didn’t have lights.”
“It was daylight and I was wearing a bright yellow set of skins.”
“They didn’t seem that bright to me.”
“Obviously.”
“You’re never going to forgive me for that are you?”
“Nope, it was a life changing moment, one in which I saw my whole life go before me.”
“You did?”
“I can’t remember, I was too busy trying to fly without wings.”
“So it’s your fault then?”
“How can it be my fault?”
“You were trying to fly without wings.”
“Only because you launched me off my bike.”
“Oh that’s right blame me, a defenceless woman.”
“Defenceless, at the time you were driving a lethal weapon. I was the defenceless one with the lacerations and scratches.”
“And that tiny willie.”
“What?”
“When I saw you in the shower, with your boobs and tiny willie.”
“Well, that’s what hormones do.”
“Yes, I know, I’m a nurse if you remember.” She giggled.
“What’s so funny?”
“Seeing you in that shower, getting that bandage off your boobs and seeing your tiny kit.”
“Seeing as I didn’t want it in the first place, how do you think I felt about it?”
“You told me you were yak breeding or something, do you remember?”
“I only remember having my life turned upside down from the moment of that impact–and I don’t regret a moment of it.”
“I did loan you some clothes.”
“It’s funny, when I went out that day, I was dressed as a man, when I went home the next, I was a woman and I haven’t changed back since.”
“I just forced you to take stock.”
“You’ve been a tremendous help to me, big sis.”
“I think we’re even on those grounds, if I’m not actually in debt.”
“Who’s counting?”
“Yeah, we’re family.” We hugged and I felt Puddin’ kick against me.
“Well if it isn’t a boy, she’s going to be either a footballer or a martial arts expert,” I said.
Stella laughed, “All of this because of a lemon babygro.”
Comments
Very nice, but ...
Your blog kind of telegraphed how it would end. Not that it made it less wonderful, just like always :)
It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born
Holly
It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.
Holly
Nice Flashback
To the beginning.
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
I'm sooo glad Karen explained...
jelly to me a few weeks ago. I'd have been wondering what they were making otherwise. LOL
Nice alusions to the first episode (just like you promised)... I did enjoy it. The little helpers shopping Sounded just about right... THough these two were better than either of mine. THey start out good, but didn't last as long (well - back when they were Trish & Mima's age anyway).
Thanks for putting this one up, it was really a fun read. Now that I've had my fix, I can sleep normally. (Whatever that means!)
Annette
Footnotes: Transatlantic Translations
Jelly = flavored gelatin dessert (e.g. "Jello")
Babygro = brand name of a "onesie," an all-in-one bodysuit for a baby, cut large enough to cover a diaper.
Thanks
To Pippa for the translation services. I'm familiar with the garment -- I have a grandson wearing them -- just not the name. And jelly, to me, is what you put on a sandwich with peanut butter. So, again, thanks!
And to Angharad for keeping me entertained for more than a year, now. Ang, aren't you setting a BG record with 531 Parts?
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
x
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
"Ang, aren't you setting a BG record with 531 Parts?"
Nah, she's setting a BCTS record with 724 parts (at the last count!)...
...although it might have reached 800 by the time anyone else reads this!
I wonder if Ang will reach either the decimal (1,000) or binary (1,024) kilopart?
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Parts
As of July 2013 she is past 2 kilo (2048). I think she takes the reward for most stories posted (solos and chapters).
Patty and Jemima
Wait until the girls get into someone's make up stash. Shoes are harmless fun, make up is not so harmless fun. Least it washes off.
I am enjoying the lighthearted stories. I like happy kids, happy squeals don't bother me at all. They don't feel the stress Cathy does, but it does seem this lot is going out of their way to help Mommy.
Knocked right into 3" heels
I'll be the feminist, She could still be a footballer, or kick boxer !
Cefin