I keep starting the week thinking, I must get organised, I must get a proper meal time routine for Erbie, I must do a meal planner and budget. How about feed a family of 2 and a quarter for £50 a week, hmmmm. Then Kendal rings up under the pretence she wants the sewing machine, (we went halves on one earlier in the year), and whisks me off to Primarni. A leopardskin coat and 2 cardigans later I’ve spent half of the weekly food budget and am sitting in Marks and Spencer’s basement cafe mopping up the coffee Erbie knocked over the table, making sure no milky (argh) splashes have got on him. He doesn’t seem bothered and is munching through a fruit salad, the lady directly behind however has thrown her cup down in disgust and flounced out. That used to be me, I inwardly cringe, she smiled when we sat down too. A little old lady in a hat toddles over and tells us she loves little boys, then leans in closer and says ‘...
and I love them when the grow up even more’!
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