Kebabs

On Friday, after a no-doubt spiffing ballet lesson during which Nicole chatted to the Mums about things that Mums chat about and I sat outside reading the tail end of the Tom Clancy book (and yes, yet again after 600 pages of very gradual buildup, there was 20 pages where all the action happened and the Americans won on every conceivable front) we went to the ballet dress shop to pick up the purple dress. I'm sure it will become the infamous purple dress.

It had to be made special order because Eloise is such a dot, but it seems to fit OK and I'm sure it will be a favourite, though under no circumstances will it be worn outside of a half-hour window before and after commencement of the class.

Speaking of shoes, which I wasn't, but am now, it appears that some growing has been done and the Havaiana baby thongs (translation: flip-flops) have been outgrown. They fitted earlier in the week, but apparently now were too small and needed to be replaced. So we went off to Paddington in the afternoon to get some new ones.

"These ones" she said.
"You're sure?" we asked.
"Yes" she said.
"Definitely" we asked
"These ones. The blue ones"

Cue sounds of financial transactions completing.

Observe sign "Choose carefully. Refunds are not made for bad choices."

"I don't like them. I want the purple ones."

In the evening on a whim we went and had a barbie down by the river as the sun set. Eloise made friends with some people and robbed them of their chicken kebabs.