It’s that moment that every parent dreads before Christmas, and in our case, a birthday beforehand..
The arrival of the Smyths catalogue through the door.
In my day, the Argos book was the kids bible. Smyths is worse. It is a whole book dedicated to overpriced toys.
Poppy opens the first page and points to the first thing she see’s.
“I want that”
“What is it?”
“I dunno, but it looks good”
She flicks over to the next page featuring some large dolls….
“Ooh these little dollies look lovely”
“What are they called?”
“Erm, I dunno, the writing is in the corner”
“They’re called ‘Our generation’ dolls”
“Oh. They look like Barbies”
“Our generation” dolls are about 10 times the size of Barbies….
On to the next page….”Ooh slime. I want slime…”
I glance anxiously at The Husband. In his effort to be “ the cool dad” last year, he…
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