Today while the big kids were at school and nursery, I took Jude in his pram to our local Tesco to buy milk. Being the impulsive shopper I am, I thought I’d do a quick zip around the shop to see if there was anything I didn’t need but would probably buy anyway.
As it’s one of those small express Tesco stores, I put Jude to one side of the aisle so people could get past and I wandered around filling up my basket with unnecessary items.
As I was in the queue I turned the pram around to see if Jude was asleep because he was awfully quiet to find him not in slumber but absolutely covered in chocolate muffin (I think) and with chunks of croissant all over his coat. There was half a donut in his hand and quite a lot of unidentifiable bakery goods strewn all through the buggy.
Now, one would think that by ones fourth child one would be sensible enough to not put ones baby next to the help yourself bakery section wouldn’t you?
There was no way he could have eaten a whole donut, a whole muffin, a whole croissant and whatever else there was in his pram … so he must have done a little tasting menu of the bakery shelf. So after I paid for all my items I walked back around to where Jude had been dining and I nearly died.
There was hardly a muffin, donut or cinnamon swirl that he hadn’t mutilated on some level. I have no idea how he managed to do so much damage in so little time. But it did cross my mind that we are definitely related because I can demolish cake at lightening speed without even blinking.
So I told the Indian guy stacking the shelves who nodded at me and told me it was okay. I offered to pay and he said “No Mam but can you please move your buggy wheels out of the spilled cakes” .. and so with that I did what any other mortified mother would do and bolted in a trail of hundreds and thousands.
With glutton baby.