like sand through the hourglass

Friday afternoon.
Cabin fever.

I haul the girls across town following a lead on Husband's Christmas present.

I pack light, it's a short trip. A couple of nappies and some wipes.

There's a sign on the shop door. Back in 5 minutes. No problem, we'll pop across the road to the shopping centre, buy some milk for home, come back in 5 minutes.

I get Stella out her car seat. Big smile. Big stink. Evidently a big frikkin' problem that I didn't pack a change of clothes.
I'm doing what I can to clean her up, wedged on the front seat with limited wipes when ....
Mum, I need a wee.
Right.

With Stella in a clean nappy, stained vest, wrapped in my sling pouch, we negotiate our way across a busy road and into the mall.
Dash to the loo. Crisis averted.

There's a Pick 'n Pay in the centre, with a small clothing department. We go shopping for Stella, change her in the fitting room, pick up some milk on our way to the till.
The queue's 5 people deep when ...
Mum, I need a poo. Badly.
I look down into the eyes of desperation.
Right.

We can't abandon the queue 'cos Stella's wearing the produce. You got to hang in there baby, can you hang in there?
The eyes are watering but she keeps it together.
Dash to the loo. Crisis averted.

Where's the milk?!
Back to the store where luckily they kept it for us.

Aaaaaand back to the first shop.
We get the gift. I've got the giggles and can see Frieda doesn't quite get the joke.
Unlock the car.
Arghhhhhhhhh. Hot car. Stinky nappy.

These are the days of our lives.