Shopaholic & Baby
Page 18
“Ooh!” says Suze. “I haven’t seen that one!”
“You take that,” I say. “I’ll take Petit Enfant. Mum, you do Luxury Baby.”
With a happy sigh we all settle down to flicking through images of infants on playmats and wearing cute Tshirts and being toted in stylish baby carriers. Honestly, it’s worth having a baby just for all the gorgeous stuff.
“I’ll turn down the corner of the page if I see something you should get,” says Mum in a businesslike way.
“OK, me too,” I say, fixated on a spread of babies dressed up as animals. We have to get the baby a polar bear snowsuit. I turn down the corner and flip to the next page, which is full of adorable miniature ski-wear. And look at the tiny pom-pom hats!
“Luke, I think we should take the baby skiing from really early on,” I say as he enters the room. “It’ll help its development.”
“Skiing?” He looks taken aback. “Becky, I thought you hated skiing.”
I do hate skiing.
Maybe we could go to Val d’lsère or somewhere and wear the cool clothes and just not ski.
“Becky!” Mum interrupts my thoughts. “Look at this crib. It has a built-in temperature control, lullaby light show, and soothing vibrating action.”
“Wow,” I breathe, looking at the picture. “That’s amazing! How much is it?”
“The deluxe version is…twelve hundred pounds,” says Mum, consulting the text.
“Twelve hundred pounds?” Luke nearly chokes on his cup of tea. “For a crib? Are you serious?”
“It’s state of the art,” points out Suze. “It uses NASA technology.”
“NASA technology?” He gives an incredulous snort. “Are we planning to send the baby into space?”
“Don’t you want the best for your child, Luke?” I retort. “What do you think, Janice?”
I look across the room, but Janice hasn’t heard me. She’s looking at the scan pictures and dabbing at her eyes with a hanky.
“Janice…are you OK?”
“I’m sorry, dear.” She blows her nose, then takes a swig of sherry, draining the glass. “Might I top this up, Jane?”
“Go ahead, dear!” says Mum encouragingly. “Poor Janice,” she adds to me and Suze in a whisper. “She’s desperate for a grandchild. But Tom never even comes out of his summerhouse. And when he does…” She lowers her voice further. “He can’t have had a haircut in months! And talk about shaving! I said to her, ‘He’ll never find a nice girl if he doesn’t spruce up his appearance!’ But—” She breaks off as the doorbell rings. “That’ll be the caterers. I’ve told them to use the kitchen door!”
“I’ll go.” Dad gets up, and we all turn back to the catalogs.
“D’you think we should get a bath seat and a bath support?” I peer at the page. “And an inflatable travel bath?”
“Get this.” Suze shows me a picture of a padded baby nest. “They’re fab. Wilfie lives in his.”
“Definitely!” I nod. “Fold the corner down!”
“These corners are getting a bit bulky.” Mum looks consideringly at the catalog. “Maybe we should fold down if we’re not interested in the page.”
“Why don’t you just order the entire catalog and then send back the very few things you don’t want?” suggests Luke.
Now that’s a good—
Oh. He’s being funny. Ha-di-ha. I’m about to come up with a crushing retort, when Dad’s voice rings out from the hall. “Come on through, Jess. Everyone’s having tea.”
Jess is here!
Oh God. Jess is here.
“Quick, hide the catalogs!” I hiss, and start shoving them behind cushions in a nervous scrabble. “You know what Jess is like.”
“But she might want to have a look, love!” Mum objects.
Mum doesn’t really get Jess and her whole thriftiness thing. She thinks Jess is just going through a “phase,” like when Suze was a committed vegan for about three weeks before totally caving in and stuffing her face with a bacon sandwich.
“She won’t,” says Suze, who has stayed in Jess’s house and knows what she’s like. She grabs Mum’s copy of Funky Baba and pushes it under Wilfrid’s bouncy chair just as Dad and Jess appear at the door.
“Hi, Jess!” I begin brightly, then stop in amazement. I haven’t seen Jess for a couple of months and she looks absolutely spectacular!
She’s all tanned and skinny and wearing cargo shorts that show off her long, toned legs. Her cropped hair has been bleached by the sun and her green sleeveless T-shirt brings out her hazel eyes.
“You take that,” I say. “I’ll take Petit Enfant. Mum, you do Luxury Baby.”
With a happy sigh we all settle down to flicking through images of infants on playmats and wearing cute Tshirts and being toted in stylish baby carriers. Honestly, it’s worth having a baby just for all the gorgeous stuff.
“I’ll turn down the corner of the page if I see something you should get,” says Mum in a businesslike way.
“OK, me too,” I say, fixated on a spread of babies dressed up as animals. We have to get the baby a polar bear snowsuit. I turn down the corner and flip to the next page, which is full of adorable miniature ski-wear. And look at the tiny pom-pom hats!
“Luke, I think we should take the baby skiing from really early on,” I say as he enters the room. “It’ll help its development.”
“Skiing?” He looks taken aback. “Becky, I thought you hated skiing.”
I do hate skiing.
Maybe we could go to Val d’lsère or somewhere and wear the cool clothes and just not ski.
“Becky!” Mum interrupts my thoughts. “Look at this crib. It has a built-in temperature control, lullaby light show, and soothing vibrating action.”
“Wow,” I breathe, looking at the picture. “That’s amazing! How much is it?”
“The deluxe version is…twelve hundred pounds,” says Mum, consulting the text.
“Twelve hundred pounds?” Luke nearly chokes on his cup of tea. “For a crib? Are you serious?”
“It’s state of the art,” points out Suze. “It uses NASA technology.”
“NASA technology?” He gives an incredulous snort. “Are we planning to send the baby into space?”
“Don’t you want the best for your child, Luke?” I retort. “What do you think, Janice?”
I look across the room, but Janice hasn’t heard me. She’s looking at the scan pictures and dabbing at her eyes with a hanky.
“Janice…are you OK?”
“I’m sorry, dear.” She blows her nose, then takes a swig of sherry, draining the glass. “Might I top this up, Jane?”
“Go ahead, dear!” says Mum encouragingly. “Poor Janice,” she adds to me and Suze in a whisper. “She’s desperate for a grandchild. But Tom never even comes out of his summerhouse. And when he does…” She lowers her voice further. “He can’t have had a haircut in months! And talk about shaving! I said to her, ‘He’ll never find a nice girl if he doesn’t spruce up his appearance!’ But—” She breaks off as the doorbell rings. “That’ll be the caterers. I’ve told them to use the kitchen door!”
“I’ll go.” Dad gets up, and we all turn back to the catalogs.
“D’you think we should get a bath seat and a bath support?” I peer at the page. “And an inflatable travel bath?”
“Get this.” Suze shows me a picture of a padded baby nest. “They’re fab. Wilfie lives in his.”
“Definitely!” I nod. “Fold the corner down!”
“These corners are getting a bit bulky.” Mum looks consideringly at the catalog. “Maybe we should fold down if we’re not interested in the page.”
“Why don’t you just order the entire catalog and then send back the very few things you don’t want?” suggests Luke.
Now that’s a good—
Oh. He’s being funny. Ha-di-ha. I’m about to come up with a crushing retort, when Dad’s voice rings out from the hall. “Come on through, Jess. Everyone’s having tea.”
Jess is here!
Oh God. Jess is here.
“Quick, hide the catalogs!” I hiss, and start shoving them behind cushions in a nervous scrabble. “You know what Jess is like.”
“But she might want to have a look, love!” Mum objects.
Mum doesn’t really get Jess and her whole thriftiness thing. She thinks Jess is just going through a “phase,” like when Suze was a committed vegan for about three weeks before totally caving in and stuffing her face with a bacon sandwich.
“She won’t,” says Suze, who has stayed in Jess’s house and knows what she’s like. She grabs Mum’s copy of Funky Baba and pushes it under Wilfrid’s bouncy chair just as Dad and Jess appear at the door.
“Hi, Jess!” I begin brightly, then stop in amazement. I haven’t seen Jess for a couple of months and she looks absolutely spectacular!
She’s all tanned and skinny and wearing cargo shorts that show off her long, toned legs. Her cropped hair has been bleached by the sun and her green sleeveless T-shirt brings out her hazel eyes.
