You do keep them lovely

said my neighbour, as we passed her on our way into town this morning. I'm just pleased she met us before we had lunch, where Little Fish had an unfortunate incident with a cherry tomato.
Mog chose to stay lovely and avoid even tasting the food by sleeping through our meal.
And then we meandered our way home. We do attract a fair bit of attention wherever we go; today one man assumed I had a remote control for Little Fish's wheelchair and was utterly overwhelmed when he realised she was driving it herself. Small boys crashing into lampposts whilst staring at us is par for the course; adults usually have things slightly better coordinated but still weave around a little.

Today Little Fish added traffic mayhem to her list of achievements. I tend to beckon to her with my hand when I want her to come to me, and reinforce my "ARGH STAY STILL THERE WILL BE MAJOR DISASTER IF YOU MOVE ANOTHER INCH OFF THE PAVEMENT" type squawks with a big handwaving STOP sign. Little Fish has clearly not been oblivious to these signs, despite the impression which might be gained by her persistant ignoring of them. Clearly, she has learnt these and picked up other Carry On/After you/no after you, I insist signs dear to the heart of the considerate English driver. It is unfortunate she chose to utilise her "please do pass in front of us" sign in waving to the driver of the large parked 4x4 just as I was stepping off the kerb in front of him with Mog. But what driver accepts hand signals from a four year old over the actions of a madwoman mother?

Disaster averted, we continued our trek until a tall and somewhat elegant woman meandered purposefully towards us, missing the edge of the path and landing painfully on the road in front of us. Disdaining my help, she tottered upright again, made it towards the kerb before collapsing in a sprawling heap on the road once more, confiding to us that she was late for a wedding (hers? She was wearing a white hat and miniskirt so I suppose it was possible. But unlikely I hope). I reached over to help her up, but she insisted she needed to stay in the road to be out of the way of my girls. So I stood and diverted traffic for a minute whilst an increasingly hysterical Little Fish wobbled around on the pavement looking for a dropped kerb (which, thankfully, she couldn't find).

A woman stopped and leapt out of a car to help us. Thinking we were together, she attempted to reunite miniskirt woman with Little Fish, who reacted with predictable hysteria to the suggestion that this stranger was her mother. We managed to get things sorted out with our first helper, at which more passersby began to help, also assuming the woman was with us. Eventually a woman from our housegroup stopped and persuaded the stranger into her car to give her a lift to the wedding venue. I do hope she appreciated this woman wasn't originally with us before making our offer. And that the woman didn't pass out in her car. I should ring and find out really. I didn't stick around once we'd been separated; too many people were trying to make us into a foursome and whilst Mog was quietly entertained by it all, Little Fish was growing ever more purple. And the woman herself was somewhat confused and keen to help us out; I had visions of her deciding to skip the wedding and insist on helping to push one of the girls home.

So we made our way towards home, taking a short cut through one of the housing estates which separates our own estate from the town centre. And got ridiculously lost, at one point walking around in circles until we bumped into (although not literally, this time, just for a change) friends from church who pointed us towards a cut through. Actually they pointed us towards two, and we took the wrong one, which dumped us out again on the mainroad just a hundred yards or so up from where we had abandoned weaving woman, but at least we could then start again and finally trek our way properly home.
Little Fish went on strike at this point, having had enough differences for one day. And here she is refusing absolutely to move from the side of the road, simply because I chose to cross at this crossing and not the one ten yards closer to home. She's becoming very rigid about the right and only way to get to places, and now gets hysterical in the back of the bus if I take what she deems to be the "wrong way" home from anywhere. Fun times.

So then we finally eventually got inside, unloaded our by now somewhat warm shopping, and collapsed in a heap for an hour or so. And that was our Saturday - how was yours?
Tia