*Psst* Come over here, and let me whisper something in your ear. Today, I bought MYSELF some new shoes. Shhh don’t tell anyone. Have you ever felt like that? You’ve gone shopping because your manky mum shoes (not Crocs, never Crocs!) have got holes in the soles, and the laces are broken, and you basically look like a bag lady, but when you get to the shops, you look at something for yourself, see how much it costs, put it back and buy 30 new things for your child instead.
I do this every time I go shopping, but I am starting a new job on Monday, and my ‘poor mum chic’ isn’t going to cut it. I don’t think the holey-crotched leggings and baggy Superman t-shirts I normally wear are going to project the right image. So, of I went, this morning, with the intention of buying myself two outfits and a pair of boots. That is exactly what I bought, I got two skirts, and two blouses (it’s impossible to use that word without feeling like I’m 90), and the most amazing boots, all for £20. I then went and bought Oscar a load of jumpers and pants.
As a parent, I think it’s physically impossible to spend money on yourself without at least spending something on your children. I don’t mean in a ‘spoily, buy you everything you want, just because you asked for it’ way, that’s what grandparents are for. I mean, on a basic level. You would never buy yourself food and not provide it for your children, you would never buy yourself a coat, and leave your child without one, you get what I mean. It doesn’t matter that Oscar has a chest full of clothes, if I buy myself some, I will buy him some. I think part of that is because it’s just the two of us, so we share everything anyway.
The best of it is, he won’t even give his new stuff a second look, maybe the pants, because they’ve got turtles on them. To be honest, I want pants with Turtles on them, that really is a window of opportunity that is not having full advantage taken of it.