I like to think I am not too bad at internet shopping. For example, I order on-line all the groceries which would be too heavy for me to carry for a once a week delivery. (I do, however - she says hastily - shop local
every day, partly out of principle but also because it gets me out of the house for a walk and, occasionally, a quick stop off at a coffee shop.) Delivery drivers are always turning up at our house with supplies for Mr B. I have had to order a larger recycling
bin just to cope with all the cardboard boxes.
Unfortunately I have what can only be described as an Impatient Pointy Finger. That is, of course, the finger you
use to click on the various boxes which should lead you from shop to purchase. It’s more usually described as the index finger but, in this case, Pointy Finger seems much more appropriate. It is possible that the rest of my fingers (and possibly my thumbs)
are also impatient but, as yet, they haven’t been put to the test.
Let me explain the most recent example of Impatient Pointy Finger Syndrome. I think
it will help your understanding and / or sympathy.
I had just taken delivery of two more Christmas presents (each encased in a large cardboard box) for the Twins,
Tala and Lilia. I had asked advice of the Really Rather Wonderful Kay, who helps me keep my house order - did she remember her favourite toy from her childhood? Without a moment’s hesitation, she said it was her Girl’s World styling head (other
styling heads are available as you will shortly learn.) In a matter of minutes, I was on the internet googling “styling heads” where I happened across Elsa and Anna from Frozen! Just their heads, you understand, but quite, quite perfect for my
youngest granddaughters. When they arrived, they were even more spectacular than I thought they would be.
I was particularly pleased to have found such a perfect
present because my last small gift to the Rascally Trio was only two-thirds successful. I’d bought them cushions - one decorated with a flamingo, for Faris, who is in Flamingo Class at school and two decorated with unicorns for the Twins. I sent them
upstairs to find them on the bed in the front bedroom - all three came down hugging them close - but Lilia was tearful: “I wanted a TOY!” she sobbed.
was, fortunately, soon over her disappointment - but I resolved that for Christmas only a toy would do. Hence Elsa and Anna - and another Big Problem. I had already thought, you see, to buy Faris, Eldest of the Rascally Trio, an England football shirt, with
his name and age on the back. But - and it’s a very Big But - imagine the scene on Christmas Day: the Twins have enormous parcels enclosing Really Rather Splendid Presents. Their big brother has a rather small present, enclosing something which is, when
all is said and done, clothes...
Onto the Internet I ventured once more, with the Middle of the Darling Daughter’s suggestion echoing in my ears - I would
qualify, she assured me, as the Best Nanni in the World if I could purchase something called a Hot Wheels Corkscrew Car Crash. Obviously, with such a reward in the offing, I was well up for the challenge.
Except that my website of choice simply wasn’t playing ball. However many times my Pointy Finger entered my user name and my password, my virtual shopping trolley into which I had placed (virtually speaking) the Hot
Wheels Corkscrew Car Crash and a set of extra cars (for good measure), vanished. “Your shopping trolley is empty,” the website kept telling me, bossily. In the end I simply gave up, telling myself I would Try Another Day. The Middle of the
Darling Daughters tried to find an alternative source but said that everywhere she had tried the toy was inexplicably out of stock.
Come the next day, hope springing
eternal in my breast, I tried again - and amazingly gained immediate access to my account. Which was when I discovered that deposited in my shopping trolley were no fewer than twenty Hot Wheels Corkscrew Car Crashes and nine additional sets of extra cars.
Is it possible, do you suppose, that I was personally responsible for so many local stores reporting that the much prized toy was out of stock?
I am pleading Not
Guilty. “It wasn’t me, Your Honour, it was my Impatient Pointy Finger....”