Coupons & Confusion

A story within a story that features a rather odd man

Welcome to Baby Brain, a space where I – Charlotte, hi! – write about family life with three small children – Poppet (m, 5 years), Pickle (m, 4 years) and Peach (f, 1 year.) Those are not their real names. These are real stories from our days.

I have long maintained that, had I been born in America, I would have been a coupon queen. It is one of the few reasons I am sad not to be a US citizen, outweighing even my desire to live in a log cabin by Lake Tahoe without having to first obtain a visa – something that would be quite hard for me to do, because I have, how do I put this? Absolutely no skills whatsoever. Couponing is not a thing in England. At least, not in any meaningful way, and so up to now my desire and my untapped skillset have gone to waste. They’ve gone to waste every day of my life until, that is, last week.

The e-mail arrived when I was in bed. “You are being upgraded,” it said, referring to a loyalty scheme I have long been a part of, “you are now a gold tier member.” I was elated. “HUSBAND!” I shouted, “I’M GOLD TIER!” “What do you mean?” he asked. And then, “I’m still silver.” ‘Amateur,’ I thought, ‘why are we even married,’ before, out loud, “pizza?” I said. “Pizza!” he replied.

We showered, we bundled the children into the car, and off we went for pizza, passing the weird shop on the way that houses a hoarder of a man who once… Actually, let’s do an aside.

*

When Peach was 10 months old, I took her to buy a hideous Spiderman lenticular (google it, I had to) Poppet had spotted in a local gallery. Despite my despair at the thought of it ruining the vibe of his freshly decorated bedroom, I had decided to bite the bullet and buy it for his birthday, because you only turn five once, and I don’t want to force my own style onto him if he has different tastes and whatever.

Anyway, this was how I found myself in what I had mistakenly thought to be a bougie art boutique – actually a terrifying hoarder’s nest – talking to a peculiar man with a very shiny head who was both age and gender blind. Who thought, despite her pink onesie, her hair clips, her baby carrier, that my daughter was a four year old boy, and that she (he?) was a big fan of his shop.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.