The cost of love!

After the initial flurry when I first had a baby, the spending slowed to a fairly steady drip and most of the toys and clothes I bought my toddlers were more down to my desire for them than their need. When they were still small enough to ride in a pram or supermarket trolley we could even browse the aisles of a shop without a constant stream of ‘can I have’s. I remember one British high-street store we used to visit regularly which stocked a small palm-sized soft toy, different each season; it was just the right size for my small child’s hands to hold as we shopped and cute enough to distract them from other potential purchases. The best thing about it was that by the time we got to the checkout the toy had often served its purpose and could be returned to the shelves without complaint. I fondly remember those days!

As my children have grown, and in number too, they’ve become far less pliable and I’ve increasingly avoided taking them to the shops unless trying on clothes or shoes is required. It isn’t just their requests for this or that, it’s the realization when I unload my basket or trolley at the checkout that half of it isn’t mine followed by the inevitable sulk if I refuse to buy it (or worse, being publicly shamed by my child’s “I can’t believe you’re so mean, it's only £x”). Socks, hair adornments, soft drinks or random plastic squeezy lemon juice; in the supermarket basically whatever catches their eye while I’m distracted buying necessities seems to be fair game. I don’t enjoy grocery shopping at the best of times so these days I alternate between online shopping (I love and hate this in equal measure because it stops me impulse buying) and going to the supermarket while they’re at school. This week, though, company was unavoidable. My 19-year-old son is taking a year off between college and university, theoretically to gain some experience in his chosen field (fashion design) but in practice it feels more like he’s shadowing me. Not only does he follow me around the house, choosing the most inopportune times to ask my opinion about his latest design idea - e.g. 11.45pm when I’m getting into bed - but he appears magically at my side if I so much as look at my car keys. I shouldn’t complain because I know it won’t be long before he’s off living his own life and I’m lucky that he still speaks to me, let alone actively seeks to be in my presence, but his company doesn’t come without a price. The unplanned addition of puppy Christmas presents and some fancy branded frappaccinos to this week’s groceries shop don’t quite explain the extra 50% on the final bill and I’m now left wondering if he’s got a cash-deal going with the check-out assistant!