A trip up the street to grab various provisions for our Family Road Trip and Holiday scheduled for kickoff during the early hours of tomorrow morning.
It involved the inevitable Convincing To Leave the House Under Threat of [insert appropriate threat here] and off we went, baby crying due to overtiredness brought on by the fact that his brothers too approximately 86 light years to put on shoes and do a poo respectively.
Off we go, in and out of various retail establishments to purchase biscuits and cheese sticks and tetra pack milks and “no we’re not buying any more bloody textas because you have about 87 million under the couch you can use” and other bits and pieces we needed. Sorted and settled and a promise to grab a milkshake on the way home, due to their reasonable well behaved status, we leave a shop to be confronted with a lady with the most … unusual hairstyle of come across.
I can’t even begin to explain what it was “like” because it was like nothing I have ever seen. Of course, her dress did nothing but emphasise the oddness of hair, and, now I look at it, the bizarreness of her made up face.
I do what I always do, with anyone, regardless of their level of odd-lookingness and smiled politely. Which was fine until she got a foot away from Godzilla, and literally face to face when he informs me (from 3 feet behind me!), looking directly at her