My 3 hours...

consisted of Toys. Lots of them! Goodness. I felt like a little kiddie winkle again. My company is doing something very sweet and giving. They have chosen an orphanage and taken pictures of all the little children, written their ages and what they want from Santa and we had to choose one orphan and buy the pressies they asked for.
So, I chose a little 7 year old boy called Musa who wants: A soccer ball, clothes and sweeties.

It's very sweet. I entered Toy Zone today to get a soccer ball. Yes, well. I was enthralled. My God! Why didn't they have toys like that when I was an ankle biter? There are no wee ones in our family, so I'm not really around toys so this was education for me today.
I know I was supposed to be in the boys section, but all the pink in the corner of the store was some sort of magnet attracting me to it. Bratz. How fabulous? I think I need to get me one of those, just for my dressing table. They are just too cute.
Ahem...what has happened to Barbie? Her face is different. Completely different. She looks bitchy, almost. And since when, does Ken have brown hair? All my Ken's had blonde hair.
Apparently in 1993, Barbie dolls got given a belly button.* Interesting/Useless fact.*
There's even one Barbie that talks. Seriously, her mouth and cheeks move and she says stupid things like: "Hey Girl" and "Let's Party!"

Then I moved onto the Tickle Me Elmo. Well I sat poking his stomach through the hole in the plastic that says: TRY ME. It amused me for about 20 minutes.
I left eventually after my "Wows and Oooohs and Oh coool's" when moms gave me weird looks. "No lady, I'm not after your child, I just happen to be a big one myself!"
I wanted to say that to one woman who eyed me out with her beady little, heavily mascara'd eyes; but I didn't.

I suddenly realised that if I ever have children, I'm going to be the one struggling to teach them that "Sharing is Caring."
I can picture it now:
Future kid: Mommy, I wanna play with it!
Me, as Future Mom: Just wait a minute, I'm playing first!

Oh dear Lord.

I put my Christmas tree up this morning. It's up, the little fairy lights are blinking at me but it looks odd. Is it really the 6th of December? I mean, really. 19 days til Christmas - shit.
It doesn't feel like Christmas time and no corny, horribly scratched Boney-M Christmas Carol CD playing in the shops, is going to change that.
Every year I want to make that Christmas special. Each year I fail. I always imagine my home to have that cosy, Christmassy feel to it, with pretty decor; smell of red wine and mince pies wafting through; candles alit; parties with all my mates and yet that little dream bubble is always popped. The mates are away, mince pies don't smell unless they're off and that's not pretty, the place can't be cosy when it's the middle of Summer (although, that's also debatable with this shitty weather) and I can't make the home feel Christmassy when I'm not in the mood. I'm also not one of those who gets the Shopping done 3 months in advance. I say every year that: This year I'm going to be prepared. Every year I'm the mad blonde woman running around frantically with that "don't mess with me or get in my way. You'll be sorry" look in her eye.

Sheesh, aren't I just a barrel of smiles?

PS> Thanks Ruby for your help with my Blondies Best Blogs list. I didn't realise how many blogs I read until I did the list. I really need to do more work :-)

PPS> Thanks for reading.