It’s a lovely summer day, I’ve done a bit of washing, it’s drying luvvery, so why do I feel so f-l-a-t? It’s been a stressy few days. Perhaps this is the reason why?
I came over faint when I heard the words
I hoped would never come. They filled me with dread,
my stomach gave a lurch; there was this throbbing in my head.
Oh please, don’t ask, I really must clean the cupboards.
Now why am I sitting in the car, when my nerves are all ajar?
‘I need some trousers, just for summer
come with me please, then we can have a lunch?’
With charm like that, how can I say no? Then have a hunch,
‘I’d better stay here for the plumber.’
He looks puzzled, but I tell a big lie.
‘Our water pressure is much too high.’
The out of town shopping centre looms up,
music blaring, the shops are so busy.
Dodging round the dawdling people makes me feel dizzy.
Hubby’s dashing round like an energised pup.
We go round all the racks; ‘Give us a clue?
Do they have to be light blue?’
What about these? I hold aloft a pair.
He glowers at me. ‘For heavens sake, please
I want a zip, not buttons.’ People are beginning to stare.
He takes four pairs into the fitting room. Catastrophe!
‘Legs too short. Legs too long. Waist too high.
The wrong shade.’ I hear him cry.
I’m fed up now, we’ve been in every shop.
'Have a break; then we could try again?
I’m exhausted and bored and if we don’t I’ll have a strop.
He’s having a think. I wait and count to ten.
‘M&S, the rack by the entrance door.’
The very first pair we saw!
He tries them on, then performing a twirl.
tightens the belt and pulling in the flab;
expands the chest trying to impress the fed-up sales girl.
I see the smirk she gives as she turns to conflab
with the young, handsome slim colleague nearby.
‘He’s not old’ I want to cry.
But those trousers are an old man’s style,
yes, they’re smart if you are ninety five!
Try on some chinos; then again my heart you would beguile.
Bermuda shorts? Then watch summer come alive.
No? The light blue horrors it will be then.
Don’t ask me to shop ever again.
