This morning darling daughter decided she wanted to dress in her fairy outfit. Fair enough; she spent a good proportion of the morning waving her wand and pretending to be the tooth fairy (since when did tooth fairies have tills?). Then husband decided we should go to the garden centre and of course, she wanted to go in her fairy outfit. No-one batted an eyelid as the fairy in the trainers and red socks was wheeled around in a trolley:
BC (before child) I would have been mortified at the thought of taking a fairy to the garden centre, so this got me thinking about how motherhood changes your sense of embarrassment.
My friend has a theory that after you've gone through the indignity of childbirth, nothing else bothers you. She could be right. Take the other week, I crouched down in Tesco (TGFT) to ask daughter a question, she launched herself at me (apparently to sit on my knee) and I went sprawling all over the floor. I wasn't even bothered when a very nice young men helped me up!
On balance I think this is a good thing.