I was horrendously sick at the weekend and collapsed into an exhausted heap. I'd like to say my stupor was caused by non-stop celebrating the end of my first college exam though, I must admit, I did go a bit over the top with the chocolate Hob Nobs.
But, alas no, my ill health was the result of reading the list of Britain's youngest millionaires which was published in too many newspapers and wondering how the heck a girl as talentless as Posh Spice could have managed to bag a gorgeous hubby and a fortune of £25 million.
I don't know what made me more depressed - the fact that I am not rolling in it or that I nearly do not qualify as "young."
It seems that even teenagers are making vast fortunes either by singing (Charlotte Church) or in e.commerce which means you design a web page with your friends when you should be doing proper work and then people buy it off you for squillions of pounds.
E.commerce is totally mind-boggling. The Internet, however, can be quite good fun and I myself spend several hours surfing it to see what golden nuggets of information I can find. Unfortunately, so far I have only discovered what can only be described as soft porn and a web site featuring several photos of a man in his new car which is only marginally less repulsive.
Anyway, I told myself there are more important things than money and sitting in front of a computer and so last weekend I decided to cheer myself up by spending some quality time with Toddler.
I have come to my senses and stopped bringing gifts each time I return home at the weekends from my college course because it was getting out of hand and he had started asking for bigger and bigger presents. Soon he will be asking for the Duchy of Cornwall or a tropical island, I thought, I'd better stop now while he's only asking for robots and real machine guns.
I know that Posh spent £10,000 on Brooklyn's birthday bash but we are mere mortals. So, a trip to McDonalds's it was.
Unlike most men or young children who love this fast-food joint, Toddler is not so excited by the prospect. He can probably tell that his Mummy is going to be sneaky and try to feed him - aargh, what a cruel thing I am.
But I convinced him that food was definitely off the menu and he could sit there drinking cola. Then he saw the balloons. Not content with one or two like the other children he wanted three and so I bartered with him, saying that I would steal that yellow balloon from the child at the next table if he would eat a fish finger. (Apologies if you are reading this.)
He managed a few bits while I kept repeating "eat" and felt like a fool because nearby six-month old babies were guzzling down entire burgers and ice creams.
In the end I had to finish off his meal.
Our time was well spent I suppose.
A weekend with Toddler and suddenly e. commerce doesn't seem so mind-boggling after all.
Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.
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