I'm going to Sydney for a few days tomorrow. One of the main reasons is to buy Lizzie's school formal dress.
If you've never been shopping with a sixteen year old girl, just believe me when I say if there is a hell on earth, that would be it.
If it wasn't so cold here today I'd be breaking out in a sweat just thinking about it. When I told Kimba we were going she laughed and said – you do know that is going to be the worst day of your life don't you?
Yes, I know. Of course I bloody know, I've been shopping with her before. I can already see dress after dress being passed over because they expose either her fat thighs, her pudgy arms, her humungous hips or her cellulite riddled knees. Of course all these things exist only in her imagination.
I think the most important thing to remember is that when she asks for my opinion, that doesn't actually mean she wants my opinion. Because I've fallen into that trap before, only to be cut down with a withering glare, an eye roll and a hair flick.
So if you haven't heard from me by Saturday, someone better send in the dog squad. They'll find me huddled and rocking in the corner of a small change room somewhere in the city, drooling.
I think I just felt the beginning of a panic attack.