I hate waiting for a fitter in the shoe department in the school holidays, but not as much as Linnea did. We eventually got seen, and Linnea tried two pairs which didn't fit before we gave up. She was demented. Deranged. In the end I strapped her forcibly into the buggy and carried Emer on my back. It was sad, because until then we'd had a glorious day - she made charming conversation with strangers in the lift, had a lovely lunch with me (practising her table manners quite consciously, which was very cute, and is very unusual), and while we were at the library she was an absolute angel.
I guess something had to give.
The good news is that although both children could use new shoes, it's not urgent yet, so I'm not going back until everyone else is safely locked up in school. And when I had to buy Linnea new trousers, there was a sale on, so I got a pair for a 7-year-old and she wore those home; now I can put them away until they fit.
People were in general very nice and helpful while Linnea was going mad, especially John Lewis staff. I was pleased, because if anyone had been outwardly unsympathetic to my plight I'd probably have roared "If you can do it better take her away" at them, at the top of my unwillingly restrained voice.
And I did almost everything on my list except buying birthday gifts. Perhaps tomorrow I'll start with that, after the meat delivery arrives.
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