Honey I forgot to dress the kid

Today I arrived at the shopping centre only to realise Mister 5 still had his pyjamas on. And no shoes. Fuck. Mister 5 didn’t care, I laughed (what else could I do) and Hubby got all serious insisting ‘it’s not funny it’s pathetic’. I told him to go inside and we’d go home and get changed and meet him back there.

Walking back to the car it really sunk in that home was a half hour drive away. And Target was a short 5 min walk. Mr 5 could use an extra t-shirt and shorts anyway.

Mr 5 and I quickly walked to Target. Hubby was already no where to be seen and this worried me a bit because I’d also left my phone at home. One of those days!

We quickly chose a t-shirt and shorts and a pair of thongs. See someone I know at the checkouts but I don’t think they saw me. I used to work with them and I really don’t want to have a conversation right now about why, I , an experienced childcare educator have simply forgotten to dress my child this morning.

We get Mr 5 changed in the family toilet while I pee. I think what I’ve done is locked the door but I guess that’s not how it’s done because pretty soon someone is opening it just as my bare bum is pointing towards it. Oops.

Then we get on with trying to find hubby whilst simultaneously finding me some new work shoes. I do both at the same time mainly because I have no idea where hubby is and that’s actually my fault. And I’m feeling both embarrassed and very cranky at him for not finding humour in the situation.

Mr 5 has not learnt the art of walking in thongs and keeps walking out of them. We give up and put them in my handbag. Still looks like a bogan but atleast he’s not in pyjamas anymore. He is hungry and reminds me constantly.

One full loop of the large shopping centre proves fruitless. No shoes I like and no husband. I’m starting to panic. What if we can’t find each other? What if he’s following me from a distance this whole time (he does that sometimes as a joke)? I’ll bloody kill him, that’s what!

I promise Mr 5 we will do one more lap of the centre and if we can’t find ‘daddy’ I will get us some thing to eat. I’m pretty hungry too and to be honest it was what I was most looking forward to out of the trip.

Over an hour after separating I finally find my husband leaning against a giant plant pot playing a game on his phone. I give him a ‘thankgod’ and a run down on my adventures with Mr 5. He gives me nothing. Still cranky. Ok.

‘Let’s go get something to eat’ I tell Mr 5 and walk off with him pretending not to care if Hubby comes along or not because I’m feeling a bit hurt by his cold reception.

I get the kid a happy meal and myself some Indian food. Hubby joins us with some Chinese. Everyone is in a better mood once we’re fed.

We look around the shops but as it turns out all we end up buying this trip is a tshirt, shorts and a pair of shoes I doubt Mr 5 will ever wear. I had hoped to start Christmas shopping but got a lot of that done back at home, online.

I don’t know why I forgot to dress my kid. Sometimes I assume they have gotten their shoes and it turns out they didn’t but the pyjama thing is unusual. I do tend to get a bit forgetful coming up to Christmas time as there’s just so much on my list I can find it hard to focus.

I’m not at all mad or upset with myself though. Because I’ve found stressing out is only going to lead to me getting more forgetful and stuffing up more. And you can’t change the past. And thank god I have the means that I could just buy more clothing and fix the problem. And thank god I have a sense of humour and humility, they’ve seen me through more than pride or conformity ever have.