The senses, they have been assaulted.

Yesterday we went shoe shopping for mum. I get my feet from her, she has aching feet and serves me right, how we used to laugh when we had watched her getting up from a kneeling position...toes stuck in a curl, and hobbling hobbler. Ooh, ahhhh, oooh......guess who's toes get stuck now then? Who's a moaning and a grunting when trying to get going after a kneel down? Oh yes, that'd be me.
Anyway podiatrists and consultants suggested some orthopaedic trainers ( running shoes, yes, running shoes) they even told her where to go..so I took her. Eventually, we got there. Up the wooden stairs to see a young and hip looking chap waiting to serve us.
Mum, 69 this year, arthritis. Me 44, overweight and puffing and wheezing, Leah, young and spring like but not athletic ( not in our genes, not anywhere and we've done the genealogy thankyou.) Here we were, standing in a store full of top of the range running shoes. Unlikely candidates if ever there were any. One of those situations that has me making wise comments and being flippant from the start.
Introductions made and impressive discussions on flat feet and fallen arches ( is that the same thing??) I mentally zoned out for a few seconds, because I do that, when I returned to earth I saw something that made me say out loud " Oh!! OH....if only I had my camera, because if THIS isn't blog fodder then nothing is!" Mum was bare foot, standing with her back to me, young and hip shoe shop man was on the floor, chin about 10 inches from mum's feet, his bum high in the air, crack on view and hairy patch ( ewww) blowing in the breeze.
4 pairs of increasingly snazzy trainers were tried on but none got the same reaction as the ( thankfully) demure first pair. Hoorah! ( so glad that lime green pair weren't the best because really, had they been 'the ones' we would have been obliged to buy some serious lycra to go with them) Mum is in foot heaven, arches supported, heels on cushions of air and gel and laced into supported bliss. She skipped along all day and sighed in sheer delight at how young and unsore her feet now feel. Her feet are corrected, which means her knees are in line and her hips are no longer being pulled out of place. She had a young man quite literally at her feet and all for the sum of £70. Cheap at half the price.
Today, I was grabbed at the exit of Somerfields, having bought a veritable mountain of flapjacks ( discovered by the boys as the new treat of the year) I was snagged by one of those blasted people who try to sell you things whilst assuring you that they aren't selling you anything. Axa healthcare today.
Oh for the love of deodorant, if you're going to take a job like this, make yourself appealing. No good wearing that smart suit if you stink, and he did, he really stank. I am not good with smells. I can't ignore them and I can't stop my face screwing up. At one point I even had to put my hand over my mouth because I was breathing in his garlic fumes when he spoke to me.....that was bad enough but his rancid armpits were just too much. He was quite handsome too. Not a bit of use is it, no matter how good someone looks, if you have to breathe through your teeth and pray that your eyebrows won't melt when you're closer than 30 feet...forget it.
I walked no more than 20 steps before another canvasser stopped me. I must have a sympathetic face, either that or they can see that I'll never be able to make a quick getaway. This one at least smelled good and was quick, he now knows how important I think recycling is, all is well with the world.
Look who came to visit yesterday....





Cobi boy, 6 weeks and all healthy and well. Still tiny and divine. How wonderful to smooch him and hand him back to his mummy. I am definately, definately too old for little tiny babies.
So lovely to see him in my living room though.