We’re off to a summer wedding in the UK quite soon and I need an outfit. It’s winter fashion all the way at the moment here in Jo’burg, so finding appropriate attire is a no-go. By the time we land back in the UK we will be hitting the tail end of the summer stock, which generally means slim pickings.
We’re just back from a flying visit to Dubai, a (the?) world famous shopping destination. They have pretty much every brand, every shade, every item that you could want and plenty that you would never have imagined in your wildest dreams.
I’ve been eyeing up dresses online on UK websites for weeks. In Dubai I saw the very dress I’d particularly liked. Only it was double the price. My cunning plan was to try the dress on in Dubai and if it turned out to be a winner, order it online in the UK and have it sent to my parent’s house ready for my arrival.
Mr Incredible had to go into the Dubai office, which meant bribing the kids to come shopping with me. One shop, maximum of three dresses I promised them, followed by a fun activity.
I only tried on two dresses. Sweetpea loved the first dress. Pickle preferred the second one. I smuggled my phone into the changing room thinking I might take some pictures hoping for Mr I’s opinion later in the day.
Pickle: “I can take pictures of you in the dresses Mummy. Please let me do it. Pleeeease, I won’t drop it.”
…and yes, his voice carried….
Me: “Ha, ha, no thank you Sweetheart, I’m just checking to see if Daddy has sent me any messages.”
I skipped the photos and hastily got changed. Upon leaving the changing room I nodded to the sales assistant.
Sweetpea: “Did you choose one Mummy? You’re not going to buy it here though are you Mummy? You said it would be much cheaper in England?”
Me: (Smiling fixedly at the Sales Assistant). “Thank you. I’ll think about it. I might come back tomorrow”
Sweetpea: “But we can’t come back tomorrow Mummy. We’re leaving.”
Me: (Winking furiously at her). “We’ll have time in the morning.”
Sweetpea: “No we won’t. Why are you winking at me Mummy? Is Pickle not supposed to hear that we’re leaving tomorrow? Because he knows already.”
Pickle: “Yes, Mummy, I know we are leaving tomorrow. You told me at breakfast.”
Me: “Come along children, I’ve just had that message from Daddy, we need to go.“
Crimson cheeked I grabbed their hands and quickly ushered them out of the shop. Were my blushes worth it? I’m not terribly sure either of the dresses will be quite right, so probably bleeping not.