Return to sender...

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Now ladies.  If you were impressed by my three days spent with son number two, hauling my pounding feet around Leeds as I tried to worm my way into his student life, you ain't seen nothing yet.

Later this morning, I am winding my weary way up to Milton Keynes where daughter number two resides, with the aim of a little light shopping around the retail hell known as CentreMK.  I speak from experience when I tell you that this shopping centre is neither for the fainthearted, or anyone who has not completed an advanced course in orienteering.  I went there once a couple of years ago with Miss R, the Mother and Mrs Jangles, and we managed to lose the older ladies after forty minutes.  When we finally met them in the predetermined restaurant for lunch, it turned out that they were too frightened to stray too far, and had basically been in the restaurant for at least an hour before Miss R and I turned up. You can imagine the state they were in, I'm sure.

When I was with son number two in Leeds this week, I bought several items from H&M, all picked by him believe it or not.  Each was accompanied with, 'This would look lovely on you, Mumma.  You don't need to try it on, that'll fit', and then, 'Are you finished here?'

So I am taking all of my purchases back to the Milton Keynes branch of H&M tomorrow; I also need to book son number two into Specsavers for a quick eye test.  What do they say about love being blind?  I must be the only person going clothes shopping who is returning more that she expects to buy.  Anyway, at least I'll be able to shop more slowly in Wallis and Monsoon, rather than being herded by son number two in a bid to get into Topman more quickly.  There was one moment in New Look when I felt like a sheep having its heels nipped by a Welsh Collie, such was the speed I went through there.

The interesting thing is that daughter number two, as befitting an employed adult,  has booked us a table for lunch later today.  The funny thing though, is that it is the same one which the Mother and Mrs Jangles used as a safe haven last time we were there.

Is my daughter trying to tell me something?



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