So this is one of those little posts that I just have to put out there because my glee-meter might explode if I don’t.
I had an urge at the weekend. An urge which resulted in me telling Dave that I wanted to buy something for the babies. Even if it was small. I didn’t even really care what it was so long as it was something for them and not for me. Something I had bought. That part was and is really important to me.
So we mooched around town for a while and did every except that, until it was almost time to go home. And when I reminded him, Dave suggested Marks and Spencers.
I’d never considered them before, but they were right across the street from where we were sitting and I was in a good enough mood to forgive my usual distrust of their prices. Besides, you get the quality in exchange, don’t you?
So we went in, headed straight for the back and after some discussion, this is what I bought:I’ve pretty much been staring at them ever since. Occasionally stroking the fabric and whispering ‘Baaaabies….!’ like a demented freak.
I’m bloody glad my maternity leave starts soon; I’m not sure how much more I can cope with. It seems now that I’ve got the bug and, if I’m not careful, the guys at work this week are going to go slightly nuts trying to block out my baby-brained babbling.
In advance, guys, I apologise. I really, really do.