A completely average Wednesday morning, around 9:30AM. Rushing around my local Sainsbury’s with little L screaming, juggling piles of grocery shopping on the pushchair. Queuing at one of the few tills that hasn’t been turned into a ‘self-checkout’, I dare to look up and count annoyed co-shopper’s looks against encouraging fellow mummy-smiles.
Result: one cashier who looks like wanting to kill me, a drunken dosser who just about manages a smile, two annoyed grannies disapproving my parenting abilities, four silently smiling mums and six dads. SIX DADS? Now, what is going on here?
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