Smug Mum

I’m feeling rather smug after some successful sales shopping today, order no massive bargains to be had on designer handbags or big electrical appliances, order no, no, no. I have well and truly stocked myself up on children’s birthday gifts. Yes, I feel very smug indeed.

Any mum or dad will know just how many party invites come home in school bags over the year. We averaged 3 a month last year between our two and quite frankly the amount spent on ensuring our kids were suitably gifted up to attendĀ  said parties could have bailed out the troubled Eurozone countries.

Not just stopping at gifts, I’ve managed to get gift wrap and generic birthday cards too. How organised am I? No more last minute dashes to Toys R Us on the morning of the party, where nine times out of ten I’d end up spend more than really appropriate on a school friend I only ever see giving his mum backchat in the playground, just because I’m rushing / feeling guilty for not being organised / secretly trying to show we give good gifts . No more.

Yes, I appreciate hosting a kids party these days can require the taking out of a second mortgage and I acknowledge that the parents are kind enough to entertain, feed and fill our kids up with enough E numbers to ensure there’s no bed before 10pm, but surely a birthday gift shouldn’t break the bank.

Gasp. I’m now one of these mums with a birthday present drawer. Never again shall I be caught out by a rogue party invite lurking in the depths of the nursery bag, tucked under nappy sacks filled with wet clothes and three scribbled drawings of the Gruffalo. I’ll just be able to select from my wide array of gifts for girls and boys ranging from aged 3 to 6, wrap it beautifully, and write a tag. I feel serene and calm at the thought.

Now, where did I put the sellotape again?

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