British Store in our ‘Hood

 

This Saturday, I was the proud mama of a 4 year-old just starting his soccer career, a career that I realize may end up lasting years or one that may fizzle as quickly as his interest in cheese. (“I don’t like cheese mama. It’s not delicious.”)

** Side gripe/rant: What does my child like to eat, you ask? Hmm, I would ask you the same thing, since my lack of anything resembling a CLUE about what he likes to eat is utterly pathetic. Let’s run through my mental checklist as I’m trying to figure out what to pack in his lunchbox – a difficult and arduous brain exercise I have to go through every single night:
Bread: No (Rules out sandwiches, for the most part)
Cheese: No
Rice: Nope (makes him gag)
Cooked veggies: Nada (Also gag-inducing)
Tuna: Ew
Clementines/oranges: No
Grapes: Not particularly, unless they don’t have the top part/hole that connects to the little vine branches
Crackers: Will maybe eat 1.
Any kind of bean: I DON’T LIKE DAT EITHER MAMA

Ok, you get the picture. Also, in case you think I’m an over-indulgent parent that bends to my child’s will and ends up feeding him chicken nuggets and cookies every time he asks for them (i.e. every single day) just so he’ll eat something: NO. That does not happen. (At least not ALL the time ;)
So of course, that complicates matters even more because I have to fight my concerns of whether he’s getting enough nutrition with the battle of wills and gagging episodes that leave me flabbergasted.
Wish me luck in my quest to figuring out how to get my son to EAT!
** Side gripe/rant over.

Back to soccer Saturday. We went to soccer (this was after swimming class earlier in the morning), and he had a BLAST. He could barely contain himself, feeling like he was on a real TEAM, and he was playing a real GAME.

It was, in one word, adorable.

After the game, we were all in a good mood, and we decided to check out the British store that I keep passing downtown and thinking to myself “I should go check that out.”

Oh, and check it out we did. The store had all kinds of treats, from chocolates to cookies and biscuits, chips, Vimto (Vimto!!!), and a range of other items I haven’t seen since I was last in the Middle East. Cadbury, Aero, McVities Digestives, Bourbon cream cookies, random little bags of chips – it was awesome and droolsome. My husband and son’s eyes were swallowing up half their faces, and I knew that I had lost them – temporarily – to the temptations on the shelves. It was their heaven.

I, not being much of a chocolate-lover, saw something else, however. I saw, in a tiny little shelving area in the corner, an assortment of soaps and cleaning supplies. And the crowning glory was the little bottle filled with amber-colored liquid gold:

DETTOL.

I found, standing there on that shelf, bottles of the real, original, Dettol.
Yes! Dettol! Pine-scented cleanliness in a bottle! None of this wimpy, imitation Pine Sol stuff. 
Dettol is the gift to every lover of sparkling clean counters, floors, and anything else that can be cleaned! (Assuming, of course, that it won’t disintegrate upon being touched by the stuff, since it’s PROBABLY not that gentle.)

Needless to say, we were a happy little family this past Saturday as we walked out of the little British store/cottage, heads and bodies (and noses) filled with swimming, soccer, English tea biscuits, chocolate, and fresh, completely artificial, pine-scented cleanliness in a bottle.

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2 Responses to British Store in our ‘Hood

  1. rodney says:

    Let me know when the little prince scores his first goal.

  2. Pingback: Amy in my pantry « halistic

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