I've just come back from Asda. You see, I can't do a huge shop during the day because, quite frankly, it's a nosebleed. (It's also come to my attention - because my friend told me - that I call all nightmare scenarios "nosebleeds". Shopping - nosebleed. Eating dinner with kids - nosebleed. Walking to school in the rain so that my hair frizzes - nosebleed.) To try and get round Asda with kids is a nosebleed. And I don't understand why it's always so bad. I always go prepared. I have a bag of sweets for each child (even if it's 9am! I can put up with the judgemental stares of beige-clad old folk if it means i can get a bit of p&q going round the store) and i usually have a mind full of games that we can play while going round. Eye spy.. who can spot the haemorrhoid cream etc etc.. But despite my best efforts, the sweets are devoured while still in the fruit and veg section, and the eye spy games are met with looks of disdain. And then it usually kicks off and we leave with a couple of bananas and a packet of garlic bread.
So - I've just come back from Asda (now 10.15pm), where only about half an hour ago, i was in the drinks section (nearly at the end of the shop) when I happen to notice something sticking out of my top. Only a rogue breast pad. A day old breast pad. A sodden crumpled manky old pad sticking out of my flaming top. How long has it been there? Is that why that guy in the cleaning aisle looking at me? I thought he may have been judging my out of control fooz (the rain is incessant right now, and there aren't enough hair products in the world that can control this beast) or my smudged mascara (Esther had clawed my face - all in the name of fun of course) or the fact that I was wearing a pair of flip flops despite the fact I have no big toe nails. (as in two big toes - no nails on either. And if you're good, I'll tell you all about that another day...)
No - this guy must have been looking at the breast pad. Looking and judging. For I would have done the same.
What is it with these blinkin' things?! Why do they never stay put!? The number of times I've had to hunt around for it... only to find it's hidden in my pit, or fallen on the floor (nice in company). I can breastfeed quite discreetly, you wouldn't even know I was doing it. But I tend to give the game away when I end up rooting around looking for this pesky bit of absorbent cotton pad..
Luckily, I have no dignity left, what with the aforementioned hair, no toenails, and sliding make up. I really am a picture. I should've used my wandering pad to slap him in the face before shoving it back down in to the dark recesses from whence it came.