Why I’ll never be thin or rich

This morning I dropped the kids at school (which was blissfully short after one child refused to go in yesterday and I spent 1.5 hours trying to drop him off. I tried. I failed. I tried again. I failed again. Multiple teachers tried. Multiple teachers failed. Until the school receptionist came to the rescue and although it is totally NOT her job, she magically kept him inside school as I left. All hail the mighty receptionist).

So after this normal length drop off, I came home, popped my runners on and headed out, Baby N in pram, to pay the bakery and the butcher a visit.
Bread in bag, bagel in hand, chicken and steak in the pram, home we went. As I passed the corner store, I saw the Ben & Jerry’s fridge and I lingered momentarily.

“Mmmm” said Future Shopping Girl. “That icecream will come in mighty handy later when you start craving that sweet, creamy deliciousness to comfort you through the difficult part of the day. Get in now and you’ll be SO pleased later”.

“Nooooo” screamed Future Future Shopping Girl. “You’ll eat the whole tub and be filled with self-loathing and regret. And Ben & Jerry’s really isn’t THAT great icecream. It just has really amazing flavours. It always sounds better than it tastes”.

“Future Future Shopping Girl is right”, I thought to myself. And I kept walking.

Later, I was innocently scrolling through my Facebook feed (okay I was checking how many likes last night’s post got) when this appeared:

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Now, I know there are some people who can look at the poster, think “yum”, and carry on with their day. And there is that weird, small percentage who think “ugh too sweet”. “Too” and “sweet” are two words that simply do not belong together.

I am neither of those people. And this is why I will never be thin or rich. I saw that poster and thought “Must. Have. NOW.” Tout suite. And then “OMG English toffeeeeeeeee”. Baby N was due for a nap and I had just BEEN in Bondi Beach, but I immediately started working out the rest of my day, and how I could work in a trip to Ben & Jerry’s. I don’t know if English toffee is any different to Australian toffee or French toffee for that matter but the words have always held a very dear place in my ice-cream flavour heart.

My options were split – I could go after Baby N’s nap, buy a tub and eat it myself…….which isn’t great for the thin but better for the bank balance OR I could take the kids after school which is better for the thin but harder on the wallet.

But I can’t just take the kids to Ben & Jerry’s……too much of a treat just for an everyday afternoon tea. So I start wracking my brains for a reason. Thinking…..thinking…..got it! First Born and J played in their first piano concert on Sunday and didn’t stop in the middle of their pieces shrieking “I can’t do this!” as they are wont to do at home. Sure, going for icecream straight after the concert would have made more sense but it was passable.

As an aside, icecream is not the only reason I will never be rich. I am constantly looking for reasons to treat my kids. Enter “the report present”. The arrival of First Born’s first school report co-incided with me spying a toy that he (ie me) could not possibly live without. With no birthday or Chanukah near, an occasion had to be found. “Here First Born!”, I presented it to him “This is for getting an excellent report! Well done on all your hard work”. And thus “The Report Present” became a thing until some point about a year or two ago when I realised that the kids actually thought “The Report Present” was a real thing, and were
planning what they should get. “You haven’t even got your reports yet!! And anyway – there is no such thing as a report present!” I shrieked. Let’s just say, the tooth fairy exposé pales in comparison.

Report presents have been relegated to a thing of the past but the underlying problem still remains….which leads us to icecream for a piano concert 5 days ago.

I kept planning. I would enjoy my icecream much more if I didn’t have Baby N on my lap shrieking for the spoon. I wondered if the new flavours came as tubs, or were only by the scoop. But if they were by the scoop, perhaps I could get it put into a take home pack?

I consulted the website. So I could have my flavours “hand” packed into a take home tub (as opposed to foot packed?). And then I saw this:

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A brand new take home tub flavour. So now there were two flavours in store I needed urgently to try and one take home tub too.

Butterscotch. Toffee. Cookie dough. Brown sugar. Blondies. Brownies. Toffee. TOFFEE. TOFFEEEEEEEEE.

The words swirled around in my head like……flavours swirling around in icecream. It’s that suggestible personality thing again. And suddenly it was all clear – the reason I will never be thin or rich is purely due to icecream*.

Epilogue.

I decided that I would leave early to collect the boys, drive past Ben & Jerry’s. If there was a parking spot right outside, I would take that as a sign from g-d to pick up ice-cream for myself only (and Working Boy, of course). If there was no spot, I would take the boys after school. I drove past, and there was the closest spot to Ben & Jerry’s free, highlighted by a sunbeam streaming through the clouds.

I went in and bought my HAND packed tub, but alas, they did not have Brown Sugar Blondie in stock yet.

You should all know that A Cookie Affair and English Toffee Crunch are WORTH IT. Worth the calories. Worth the money. Worth shlepping Baby N in and out the car. Oh, and I also picked up a free Ben & Jerry’s 2015 calendar which, in a brilliant piece of marketing, has about $70 worth of B & J’s vouchers attached to the 12 pages, 2 vouchers valid per month.

2015 will be a great ice-cream year.

P.S. On my walk along Curlewis St, I also passed a gorgeous new shop / gallery, which has the most awesome Astro Boy canvas I have ever seen. I was debating which son I loved most, who would get the canvas, when I discovered said canvas is $800. Unfortunately, as discussed, I’m prone to blowing the budget on ice-cream, so no-one gets the canvas, but I will be making a return trip to check out their smaller prints, and I would encourage you to do the same.

*and possibly a very sweet tooth and a complete lack of self control.

XOXO Shopping Girl

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Yesterday he left for camp.
My body responds to stress and worry the same way it responds to exhaustion. It shops. Of course, I can’t furnish a house every time I am anxious or tired. And truth be known, being happy has the same effect on me too. The only thing better than a celebration is celebrating the celebration with a shop. In order for me to stop shopping, I think I would need to maintain a state of complete emotional apathy. Without getting bored because then I’d once again feel compelled to shop.

The camp bus left around 8.30am. By 9.30 I was at the supermarket. I may not be able to justify a new set of shoes but with 5 men (even small ones) in the house my pantry always needs restocking.

I got all the essentials. Chocolate. Ben and Jerry’s. Caramels. The icecream (and it’s delicious brownie chunks) got me through until 3.30pm when their bus finally arrived safely at the campsite. The chocolate came in handy today when our clothes dryer caught on fire……but that’s a story for another time (a new dryer has bumped it’s way to the top of our “to buy” list).

In some ways, my second born, J, is the glue that holds together the relationship between my oldest, and third born, who are 4.5 years apart. Without #2, I have three kids separated by 4.5-5 year gaps…..instead of 3 kids with 2-2.5 years between them…..and a baby. It is a big difference. J has left a size 9 gap that needs filling, and this costs money.

$30 to be exact. That is what we bought yesterday. School holidays polyfilla. One hour for both of them at the inflatable slides / castles / mazes at Fox Studios (EQ never caught on). Like everything else, jumping castles come at a premium in Sydney’s Eastern suburbs.

After an hour of happily clambering about, they came out. As we walked off, N threw an arm around Master T’s shoulders and said “We’re best buddies, you and I”. $30 very well spent. Who said money can’t buy friendship?