Sponsored by Big W.
I live in a small town. Small enough that everyone either knows you, your husband, or your husband’s cousin.
Small enough that the recent upgrade of the town hall resulted in the addition of a breastfeeding/mothers’ room. Which was practically revolutionary around here.
Before then, the best place to sit down and breastfeed your child in the quiet while you were out was your car. And, seeing as I don’t drive, if one of the Two were in a particularly fussy mood (which by default meant a fussy feed) I would have to walk down to Pal’s work and put all the children in their baby carseats – a half an hour process for a five minute feed for each baby.
This town is small enough that you could walk from one end of the main street to the other within 10-15 minutes.
But then again, this town is small enough that chances are you’ll stop to chat once or twice (or ten times) and it’s more likely to take you half an hour.
This town is small enough that for over three years with children (two of them with three small children) I’ve managed without my license, because the furthest place we could possibly need to go is the doctor’s surgery.
All of 20 minutes from our front door to theirs.
It’s a small town, with all of the small town perks and limitations.
However, we are a big enough town to have a Big W.
And on the days when it’s too cold (or hot, or wet, or I can’t be bothered) to head to the park, it’s only a 10 minute walk to “The Big W” as Roo likes to call it.
If I’m bored, feeling stuck or just in need of a walk with a destination, Big W is the place I like to go.
It’s heated in winter, air conditioned in summer, and full of stuff.
I love stuff. I can always find something to look at, if not buy…
I’ve made friends with the staff, is how much I love it down there.
Robyn and Judy are my favourites. They always ask how the children are and notice when it’s been a long time since I’ve been out of the house. They’ve known me since before I was big and bloated and pregnant with Roo.
They know me so well they even let me take their pictures to put on this blog. Robyn insisted that she look like she was working in hers (and she was, by the way!).
Judy threw her head back and laughed when I told her what I was doing. I think she thought I was joking…
They also know me so well that after going through the checkout, and realising that I did not, in fact, have my own EFTpos card – Pal did, when I said I’d be back in 10 minutes, Judy knew it was the truth.
So I traipsed across the road, where my husband works, and where he laughed at me.
Then back across the road to Judy, who laughed with me and let me pay for my purchases without paying me out.
Because she’s a nice person.
Probably from living in a small town.
A small town big enough for a Big W.