I can refuse char kuey teow. I can refuse the latest It bag. Heck, I can refuse an invitation to see the Queen.
But I realised I just cannot refuse baby clothes.
Seriously, miniature clothes for little people. Everything is just soooooo adorable I can cry.
Since this is our first child, we thought fineeee we’ll splurge a bit on baby clothes. The 2nd 3rd 4th children can just take hand-me-downs. We’ll tell them it’s vintage and vintage is the new cool.
Dean knew I couldn’t be left alone at the baby section so he followed my every step.
“Omg this is so cute!”
“Omg they don’t have this in Malaysia.”
“We have to get this.”
“We HAVE to get THIS.”
“And this. Oh my god, THIS.”
“Oh my god baby I need to sit down. I cannot do this.”
And so I sat down and meditated for a couple of minutes while Dean shook his head. He was probably thinking what on earth he married. Not who… what.
I don’t know what it is about London. I swear I’m not usually like this in KL. I can at least have some self-restraint even if I really like something. But man, over here, I’m a monster. I’m so thankful I’m not raising my children here. I’ll be that crazy lady rounding the baby section everyday.
“Oooh such a good buy! This set comes with a little dice. We have to get it for Baby D.”
Dean examined the dice. “So what will Baby D do with it?”
“I don’t know… But it’s got numbers and stuff so our baby can get a headstart on Maths.”
Dean just walked away, implying a no.
“Why do you hate our baby?!” I called after him. I wanted to follow him but look, there’s a little pacifier too! So cute! Too cute!!
After we were done for the day, at least there was one good thing. Since we’re tourists, we get to claim tax returns (VAT). I told Dean it’s all technically bought at a discount, so it’s just like saving money!
So we gathered all our receipts and went to the VAT section at Harrods.
Took our ticket number and sat patiently, me throwing puppy smiles at Dean to ease his pain.
“Ticket number 32, Counter 2, please.” The announcement called us.
We walked eagerly to the counter and I smoothed the receipts to assist the lady.
She had a look at our receipts and looked up. “These are childrenswear. There is no VAT on childrenswear.’
I sat there speechless. “I’m sorry, what now?”
“You can’t claim tax returns for childrenswear because there is no VAT on it.” She repeated, slightly bored. “Next, please!”
Keep smiling at him, keep smiling, you idiot, I told myself.