To the shops..

Lal loves shopping. Actually, that's not quite true. He loves our little parade of shops. We go to them everyday, I'm forever posting packages for ebay, my website sales, nappies, so know everyone up there quite well.

It's only a small parade, a chip shop that also does chinese, an off license, a Co op, Man who sells everything and anything, Bookies, Paper Shop and Post Office.

First stop is always the Post Office. The man knows us well and is forever asking me how on earth I make money on ebay as he doesn't understand computers at all. He's even more perplexed by the nappy business. Once inside, Lal runs to the counter and says hello. He then runs to the end of the shop and starts playing with the buttons. Now, picture a huge wine rack type thingy, with hundreds of plastic tubes of buttons in it. In between me weighing and paying for postage, I have to run backwards and forwards stopping Lal from removing every single tube. If I don't ask him nicely, we have the loudly entertaining tantrum of "Butttttttooooos" (buttons.. yep, he calls them but tooo's) Post man finds this highly amusing and offers to sell me all the buttoos every day. Lal then likes to stand behind the door, waiting for some unsuspecting person to open it into him, so he can pretend he has been flung backwards through the shop. Drama prince..

Post office done, we head to the Co Op for whatever I've forgotten to buy from Tesco. Usually milk and bread. Lal loves this shop like no other. He will run in, touch the baskets, shout "mook" at the milk and then start his circuits. Literally. Run past the bread, turn left at the cakes and biscuits, stop to inspect the washing powder.. and spend 2 mins examining the toothbrushes. before pronouncing them to be actual toothbrushes at anyone who happens to be near. We then have the ritual of *just* not touching the ice cream bin, "hot" (everything I don't want him to touch is Hot. Just easier that way.. he knows to ignore it then) He makes sure everyone knows it's hot, and then starts another circuit. Tries the door flinging trick again, but it's glass so no one throws him across the shop.. and then watches the Lottery Advert with rapt fascination. (You know. the little tv's that have balls with £100K on them, that bounce down..) he has to count the balls, says the letters, and shout "egg" at the tv. Maybe I should write to the lottery people and tell them that the balls aren't quite circular enough..

And then to the Off Licence.. not because I need my daily alcohol fix, they sell Dime bars and cheap toilet roll... And my cigarettes.. there, I said it. Happy now? Lal immediately heads to the little vegetable bit and attempts to take a bite out of the cabbage. Yep.. he'll eat it from there, but when I take one home and cook it for him? No chance. He then has his ice cream. Now, opinions are divided here.. one of the women thinks that I am the cruellest parent in the world.. the other thinks I'm evil *and* funny. I *may* have told Lal that eating ice cream is when you lick the picture of the side of the display cabinet. So he always has a quick bite, and the nice lady gives it a wash when she sees him coming. I don't want him eating dirty ice cream after all.

By the time we are ready to head back to the car, we go past the man who sells anything and everything shop, and we have to stop and label the things hanging from his awning. It goes Broom, Broom, Mop, Mop, Brush (indoor) Broom, Mop, Mop, Hanging Toy Tidy, Broom. Usually. there was that one day when it went Hanging Toy Tidy, Broom, Broom, Mop, Mop, Brush, Mop, Broom, Mop... but Sid learnt from the tantrum and has never mis hung them again.

Now do you see why I didn't do a proper written version of the Day in the Life of Lal? I'd have been here for years.

K x