Hola Mothership!

Papadada and I were back in Barcelona for the day today. New Aussie passport for the hubby. Long-ass way to go, 4hr round trip, MISH-ON.

P’dada was originally going to make the trip by himself, seeing as though right now Sticky Baby and the car love each other about as much as Listerine and mouth ulcers do.

Ever since he’s become mobile (the kid crawls like someone’s slipped a dose of pseudo-ephedrine in his rice cereal), he hates being restrained in the car seat for more than 15 minutes. He gets very impatient and testy which leads to Papadada and I pulling out the most random items from God-knows-where for him to play with. The favourites right now? A pair of swimming goggles and an empty bottle of Coke. We get some weird stares from other drivers when they look in the back seat of our car and see a 9-month old pretend-chugging Coca Cola. That’ll teach you to stare, frenchy! Yes, our child is holding a bottle of pure evil whilst gnawing on blue goggles. Deal with it.

Total tangent, sorry....Where was I? Ah yes, so we decided it was a safer/nicer idea to leave Sticky Baby with Nanny B for his one day of ‘school’ per week. Save him the horror of long-distance driving and mummy and daddy bickering about the stupid iphone map application. That thing gets us lost every time, I swear.

So Papadada and I had a whole day together in a big city. Fun!

Boring passport pick-up out of the way, we had a very nice lunch at a lovely place called ‘Qu-Qu’. We both had a ‘pee-pee’, downed a cafe-con-leche each + a Nebraska beef burger for Papadada (not very Spanish, but he goes for the biggest item on the menu...and tapas ain’t that big...so Nebraska beef burger it is!).

And then....ZARA!

Come to mama. It’s been over a year since we last saw each other, since I last caressed your perfectly dressed mannequins, since I last cooed over your racks. Papadada ‘released’ me into the 4-story ZARA store, told me to "have fun” and "txt me when you’re done I’ll be at KFC". Love that man.

So I went a little crazy at first and ended up with 18 items hung over both arms, a groovy belt strung around my neck and a random fedora on my head, barrelling my way towards the change rooms.

And can I just say how forgiving and perfect ZARA change-room mirrors are?! I want that exact lighting and that exact mirror to follow me wherever I go. Yes please.

Result of ZARA-madness? 3 items purchased. Three. Trois. Tres. What the hell happened to 18? And do you know what I bought? A grey t-shirt, denim shorts and another vintage-y type shirt. Snore.

No but seriously I do love them. They are really ‘me’ and just good, trusty basics. And our bank card was thanking me. I ended up buying Sticky Baby four cute little Zara-baby items. Among them, these to-die espadrilles:

I was only in ZARA-land for 1hour. Pretty good. Papadada had the time to inhale a couple of KFC burgers which made him very happy.

Back on the road, homeward bound to pick up Sticky Baby by 4:30pm, who by the way is sprouting his 5th tooth. Another tooth mark to look forward to on my index finger when he chomps down for no apparent reason.

I am his favourite chew toy. Forget the blue goggles!

End Note: Devastation! The Zara baby espadrilles don’t fit! Too small! Did his feet grow in 4hrs? Saving ‘em for bebe#2, whenever that will be. Devastated..