Ha - ha - ha - Halfords
Trying so hard to find a solution to the time problem and getting the little ones out with me, so went to Halfords on Saturday.
Now before I get stuck in, I need to stay that I've shopped in Halfords before. And this is the first time I've had real cause to complain.
We went into take a look at the options for dragging a small child along behind a bike.
Husband got distracted somewhere around the AutoGlym stand, so with two hyped up (Just been to a party, big sugar rush, loads of colourants) boys in tow, I tried to shortcut the 'if it's not on the shelves...' and asked what they had.
The guys behind the desk shall henceforth be referred to as pimplies. They're a particular breed of shop assistant. Spotty (hey we all have hormones). Unkempt greasy hair. Slightly dirty looking (probably just rolled out of bed to get to their afternoon shift). Terminally unable to smile. Oozing attitude. Should all be called Kevin.
Which is probably king of cool on the playground, but irritating as hell when you're trying to get anything done.
(And almost certainly a cruel reminder that I'm getting older.)
'The only thing we've got', I'm told 'is a bar to to tie your childs bike to your bike.'
Hyperactive 3 year old on A4 to Maidenhead, notorious accident hotspot - I think not!
Pimplie returns to desk. Joined by 3 more pimplies.
I spot a bike buggie. Oh, and a brochure. Brochure reveals a range of options - another tie on bike, and 2 types of buggy.
Ask pimplies for prices. Three stand staring at computer sceen. One ventures out. Kids getting bored and examining things on shelves. Sense time may be running out.
Buggy options around £20 mark. Make mental note to check on eBay given that this is an experiment that could result in £120 for a single ride.
Persuade pimplie to let three year old try buggy. More solid looking option way too small for my lanky infant, so ask for other option to try. To remove buggy from stand, onto which both kids are now threatening to climb to speed things along, pimplies must remove obstacles. God help British defence if any of them ever join the army is all I have to say on the ensuing fracas.
Husband rejoins fray with expensive (but marked down) AutoGlym in hand, evidently planning on trying to make our aging Rover look like a Jag. Pimplies start looking a little more helpful. (Size, gender or dress code that's made the difference? I'd been reorganising furniture in the boys room for most of the day, so probably did look a bit down at heel)
Anyway, buggy looks perilously close to the road for my taste, but does have something to tie him in with - added bonus. Further mental note to call police for some road safety figures.
Five year old itching to get in and try - whole things appears to bow perilously. Husband declares this a figment of my overprotective imagination.
Small child, however, loves buggy. Wants it. Pimplies by now are back musing over computer screen. Assume it's nearly closing time from complete disinterest. Leave empty handed. With three year old wailing for a new buggy.
Who'd be a parent?
Now before I get stuck in, I need to stay that I've shopped in Halfords before. And this is the first time I've had real cause to complain.
We went into take a look at the options for dragging a small child along behind a bike.
Husband got distracted somewhere around the AutoGlym stand, so with two hyped up (Just been to a party, big sugar rush, loads of colourants) boys in tow, I tried to shortcut the 'if it's not on the shelves...' and asked what they had.
The guys behind the desk shall henceforth be referred to as pimplies. They're a particular breed of shop assistant. Spotty (hey we all have hormones). Unkempt greasy hair. Slightly dirty looking (probably just rolled out of bed to get to their afternoon shift). Terminally unable to smile. Oozing attitude. Should all be called Kevin.
Which is probably king of cool on the playground, but irritating as hell when you're trying to get anything done.
(And almost certainly a cruel reminder that I'm getting older.)
'The only thing we've got', I'm told 'is a bar to to tie your childs bike to your bike.'
Hyperactive 3 year old on A4 to Maidenhead, notorious accident hotspot - I think not!
Pimplie returns to desk. Joined by 3 more pimplies.
I spot a bike buggie. Oh, and a brochure. Brochure reveals a range of options - another tie on bike, and 2 types of buggy.
Ask pimplies for prices. Three stand staring at computer sceen. One ventures out. Kids getting bored and examining things on shelves. Sense time may be running out.
Buggy options around £20 mark. Make mental note to check on eBay given that this is an experiment that could result in £120 for a single ride.
Persuade pimplie to let three year old try buggy. More solid looking option way too small for my lanky infant, so ask for other option to try. To remove buggy from stand, onto which both kids are now threatening to climb to speed things along, pimplies must remove obstacles. God help British defence if any of them ever join the army is all I have to say on the ensuing fracas.
Husband rejoins fray with expensive (but marked down) AutoGlym in hand, evidently planning on trying to make our aging Rover look like a Jag. Pimplies start looking a little more helpful. (Size, gender or dress code that's made the difference? I'd been reorganising furniture in the boys room for most of the day, so probably did look a bit down at heel)
Anyway, buggy looks perilously close to the road for my taste, but does have something to tie him in with - added bonus. Further mental note to call police for some road safety figures.
Five year old itching to get in and try - whole things appears to bow perilously. Husband declares this a figment of my overprotective imagination.
Small child, however, loves buggy. Wants it. Pimplies by now are back musing over computer screen. Assume it's nearly closing time from complete disinterest. Leave empty handed. With three year old wailing for a new buggy.
Who'd be a parent?
posted by Waving hello! @ 3:23 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home