(aka unwanted advice in a shopping centre) I’m going to share with you an incident that happened to us in Cribbs Causeway a few weeks ago. I want to share it as I feel I can now – the red mist of anger has dissipated and I’m now comfortable in the air of “really? I mean… really?” which is frankly where I seem to spend much of my time. It’s the place where I look at people from, mildly confused as to why they are offering me unsolicited advice on just about anything. It’s been a while since it happened to me, or maybe I’m so sleep deprived most of the time I’m not really registering what people are saying to me. I usually look at those around me with a vacant expression while I picture them as a huge mug of steaming coffee. But on this particular day I had gone past exhaustion to a whole new level of consciousness. Small Boy had woken up just after midnight and refused to go to sleep until after five in the morning. I had reached a new level of tiredness where hyper vigilance takes over. It possibly wasn’t a good decision to go shopping but after weeks of being cooped up with Small Boy’s assorted illnesses, we were going a bit stir crazy. The weather looked unpredictable so a farm or somewhere muddy seemed out of the question. Soft play – on a weekend – are you mad? We knew we… View Post