So, fellow UK residents – what about that bank holiday weekend, huh?
It was amazing. Definitely the sunniest bank holiday in MY living memory, so, to celebrate, I decided to spend Bank Holiday Sunday in the public bathroom at Hopetoun House. Yay!
And, I mean, OK, yeah, we DID visit the rest of the house – OK, the grounds. OK, the restaurant – too, but the second I’d finished placing my lunch order, Max was like, “You know what? Now seems like a good time for a giant poop! I think Ima make that happen!” And then the second I finished changing him – like, the LITERAL SECOND I finished changing him (On one of those horrible fold-down changing tables in the kind of public bathroom where you have to stand there mopping up poop while your poor fellow diners squeeze past to wash their hands*) and picked him up again, Max was like, “You know what? Now seems like a good time for ANOTHER ONE!” And off we went again. I honestly thought I was going to be in there forever, just endlessly changing and re-changing the baby, while life went on around me, and my lunch got cold on the table.
(*I seriously think someone should write a kind of tourist guide to the UK, but, instead of listing things like restaurants and tourist attractions, it would just tell you where all of the best baby change facilities are. There could be some kind of star system, say, so you’d be like, “Oh, you’re off to X restaurant? I’m so jealous – their baby change room has a Michelin Star, apparently!”)
Thankfully, though, all things must pass, and that was the case here too, so I finally emerged, blinking, into the sun, where Terry asked my mum to take a quick family photo of the three of us, using our fancypants DSLR camera. And here it is:
“And then we can re-take the same photo, in the same place, every year!” said Terry, optimistically. I think Max’s expression says it all, here:
Well, maybe not EXACTLY the same photo, then. Maybe this one, instead:
(In my mum’s defence, I will just add here that she has an almost-identical camera of her own, and she DOES know how to use it…)
Anyway! This photo brings me – AT LAST – to the ACTUAL point of this post, which was SUPPOSED to be my £23 outfit. Because yes, people, this outfit is all new, and all of it together* cost me just £23, from Primark.
(*OK, ALMOST all of it: the blazer is about 600 years old* now, so it totally doesn’t count. The rest of the outfit is new, though, and the rest of it cost £23, so my point stands.)
(*6 years old. Which is, like, REALLY old in blazer years, trust me. They age like dogs, you know?)
It’d been absolutely ages since I’d been into Primark, but we had to go to the bank last week, and Primark is opposite the bank, so, before I knew what had happened, I was standing in the middle of a heaving throng of people, clutching a bag full of slogan t-shirts, and knowing perfectly well that I was about to walk around doing that thing where you’re like, “Oh, that’s only £3! I might as well just get it! In fact, I’ll just get two! And maybe this other colour, too!” and then you get to the checkout, and they’re like, “That’ll be £500, please!”
Even Terry was impressed.
“I bet you could get a whole outfit for, like, £20 or something,” he said, as he followed me resignedly around the store. Well, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED. I got the dress for £6 (And yes, it’s actually pretty decent quality, too), the sneakers for the same amount, sunglasses for £3, and the bag was the most expensive item, coming in at a whopping £8. So, OK, I didn’t quite manage to do it for £20, but almost. (Oh yeah, and the ever-present hair ties on my wrist were something like £0.50 for 5,000. I’ve just accepted that they’re going to appear in every outfit photo now because, the truth is, when I’m not having my photo taken, I almost always have my hair tied back, to stop Max trying to pull it out with his tiny – and yet surprisingly small – fists.)
CONCLUSION: It IS possible to buy an entire outfit – or most of one – for £23. It’s just NOT possible to go for a day out and not have to change at least one poopy nappy, but, more likely, TWO.
Or not if you’re me, anyway.
Oh, and I tried all day to get a photo of Max smiling in his little outfit (Which you can find here) and I totally failed, so here’s one from when we got home, instead: