Kids – or clothes?

It’s that time of year again, when I consider buying a winter coat – surely the most pleasurable but agonising of prospects? If you have managed to justify the purchase to yourself, you are already halfway there. If you made the mistake of buying an “investment piece” last year, then tough luck, you’re wearing it again this season, love, while I revel in the luxury of hunting for the ultimate fashion hit. Turns out that this year – thanks to mysteriously being on the mailing list for everyone’s catalogue and finding browsing them to be the most fun thing to do in bed – I have already found my sweet prize. Only trouble is, it is what the catalogue calls ‘Almond’. This, to you and me, is a beautiful pale cream with the tiniest hint of caramelly pink. Just the most delicious colour ever. But my kids jump up on me all the time, like dogs. Within seconds that coat will be dappled like a Dalmation with muddy bootprints. 

So here I come to my dilemma – the coat, or my kids? 


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