The Acquisition Tango Part One

Shop drive drive shop,
Shop drive drive shop.

This weekend, my punkling, was characterised by acquisition.

When one is young and hip, as your mother and father were both, although in both cases too many years ago to remember, the relative success of one's weekend is ajudged based entirely upon the lack of productivity that one manages. To spend the entire 2.5 day period ensconced in a smoky room listening to very loud music and spending half of your wages on drinks with umbrellas in them, punkin, can be an entirely acceptable, nay desired way to spend one's weekend.

As you get older, this changes. Drastically. After awakening at an ungodly hour on Saturday morning, one catalogues the purchases and chores that must be accomplished if one is to feel that one has had a "productive" weekend. One writes, punkin, LISTS in bed with one's partner.

One then arises, has a shower and some cereal and gets dressed, all before 930am.

Then the great shop begins. This weekend was the one we had earmarked (falling, as it did, just after your dad's payday) for the purchase of many of the items remaining on our 'must buy before punkin gets here' list, mostly consisting of clothes for you and a place to put them.

First on the agenda was making sure that we're going to be very pretty in all the photos that get taken of us when you get here, so a quick trip to the hairdresser was necessary. Running into Lovely Samantha and Lovely Damian was an added bonus. Seeing them having breakfast made us realise that we hadn't had second breakfast yet, so we made a trip to the pet shop. The pet shop that happens to be right next door to the place where we really like to have brunch on the weekend.

The pet shop provided us with two big, fluffy, comfy dog beds for Miss Purdey and Miss Kudra, which will hopefully prevent them from climbing the four feet up into your bassinette to sleep. I'm not promising anything though, and it's best that you get used to the idea early rather than late.

Next on the agenda, after a burger and a beer for me and some pancakes and a smoothie for your mum, was a place to put the clothes for you that appear to be accumulating at a rapid rate. Off, then, to the el cheapo furniture shop that your Grandad recommended that is just up the street from his house. Cue your dad saying things like "can you do any better than that?", and "so does that price include delivery?"

One Walnut Chest of Drawers later, we went on to the Gigantic Purveyors Of Baby Goods.

Now punkin. Your mother and I are aware that we're in the minority in deciding to not find out if you're a boy or a girl until you come out, and we're firmly of the belief that

It's a Little Bit Early To Start Imposing Gender Roles

So buying baby clothes for you is an exercise in frustration. Sure, we know that you don't care if your bib is blue, pink, purple or polka-dotted, but it's the CONVENTION and it becomes difficult to find anything that is not. Pink Blue or Yellow. White and Green appear to be the only other alternatives, so we're sorry to say that your wardrobe for at least your first couple of weeks could leave a little bit to be desired.