My life in bags

I got a Morrison’s delivery the other day. It happened to be on a day when my mother in law offered to have both girls. So you can imagine what I did. Yep, went back to bed.

Once the school run was complete and I had delivered the precious cargo to grandma’s I changed back into my nightie, drew the curtains and snuck back under the duvet. I set my alarm to the allotted Morrison’s slot and slipped into a peaceful coma.

When my time was done I got up and pottered around the house making a list of all the jobs to do but refusing to do any as this was my – ‘day off from life’ – day. Sometimes we need these days if we’re gonna be able to face all the other days that come along.

The Morrison’s man arrived. He began to unload my shopping bags. Litres of milk, bags full of bread, two different sizes of nappies, baby formula, cat food and sanitary towels.

When passing me the last bag with his twenty something, tattooed arms I swear I caught a look sympathy coming from his beard clad face. He gave me a muted smile and bowed his head as he walked away. I sent my thanks with him and closed the door on the many bags filling the corridor.

On my way to the kitchen I caught myself in the mirror and gasped. I was wearing my pink dressing gown with one fluffy bed sock up to my knee and the other down around my ankle. My hair was flat on one side of my head but standing on end on the other like it had endured a violent electric shock. My smudged glasses only slightly covering the eccentric eyebrows and crusted eyes. Wow.

Now I know why I got the look of sympathy from the twenty something or was it the contents of my shopping bags that made him nod at me like a convict on death row?

I had to laugh. I usually don’t care what I look like to other people as behind every person is a story we just don’t know, so why judge? Yet this tot had just seen the contents of my weekly shop and that told a story that made his buttocks clench. Two lots of nappies, a trolley load of food (and some for the cat) and a two for one bumper pack of sanitary towels that along with the wrecked appearance of a woman who gave birth to her fourth three months ago. I’m not more surprised he didn’t say goodbye with a sign of the cross.

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