I went on a trip to town with my mum and two little ones today. Here's what happened...
My Toddler Boy has a serious plug fetish - this is normal plugs that you get on appliances and night lights. We got him his own set of plugs in the hope that it would cure him of his obsession. Unfortunately it seems to have made it worse. He insists on carrying an orange night light around with him. This little item is referred to as 'show show'.
He lost his 'show show' countless times, threw it randomly at people and windows and became hysterical when it was taken off him.
My mum 'drove' the push chair and clearly needs somesort of test. The pushchair was driven into shelves, swiping a number of insoles for shoes off their hooks. At one point she got into bother steering the thing and nearly landed in a tower of Poundland shopping baskets. Toddler Boy also took a liking to a dustpan and brush set and proceeded to brush passers by and, at one point, managed to shove it into a woman's handbag. He grabbed a pencil set off the shelf and had it ripped open, contents scattered in seconds. My dear mum was oblivious to all of this - hilarious.
I stood talking to a friend I hadn't seen since summer completely oblivious to the fact that she was eight months pregnant. Thank goodness she is a wee thing that has a teeny bump. It was a different story when I stood talking to a, shall we say, bigger friend and had to be told that she was due to give birth in a week - how do I get out of that one? 'Oh sorry I couldn't tell there is a baby amongst your, er, body fat?' I know which one I prefer and now realise that thinking someone is not pregnant can get you in just as much hot water as thinking someone is when they're not!
I also had a total melt down at the supermarket check out. Previously I had decided to move my bank card from its usual slot in my purse because it kept getting stuck and put it in the slot next to it. I had spent a fractious hour trawling the aisles, grappling with the grabby hands of little ones and dealing with their hysterics. My trolley now heaved with many bags of stuff I had purchased in panic and now was the time to pay. No card. I went into meltdown. Laughing in a shrill banshee manner I fingered the slot repeatedly. My brain just would not register that the card was not there and the next logical thing would be to look in the rest of the purse. I turned puce, felt dizzy and had visions of being escorted off the premises amid shouts of 'Dirty stinking debtor!!!'
Thankfully I managed to recover the card and pay.
On the way home my mum and I discussed things in detail, as we always do. With much laughter at our dumb ass ways we concluded that we were both victims of our hormones. I am suffering from baby brain and my mum is menopausal. So, I am doomed to a prolonged time of baby brain only to move into the hormonal rollercoaster of the menopause - I think I will take my mum's advice and try to have a laugh at my failings, it's either that or crying in public - I know which one I prefer!