Dear Unley Shopping Centre,

I will not be visiting you for a VERY LONG TIME after that spectacularly embarrassing tantrum by Miss Nearly 5. In fact, I don’t think I will ever leave the house again for fear of someone recognising me. Thinking I might just order all food and clothes online from now on. It will be a whole lot easier than trying to drag a screaming, kicking child out of your lovely arcade and into the car. Clearly, I am suffering PTS – Post Tantrum Stress – as it is definitely not like me to not want to visit shopping arcades. I am wondering if I can perhaps claim for some sort of damages as I found myself resorting to drinking cask rose and eating a whole block of Rum and Raisin chocolate and am now not feeling the best. 

When I entered your store yesterday with my Mum and my three children everything was joyous. When we left ashen face with me forcing my catatonic 5yo into my car, I stopped to wonder if it was somehow the shopping centre’s fault, with all its shiny seats and glistening fridges stocked full of My Little Pony drink bottles. Luckily, only one of the kids was lured by the shiny stuff. Who knows what would have happened if all three simultaneously combusted? 

Also, perhaps, next time could you make sure security guards come and shield us from the preying eyes of other shoppers and step in to stop “well meaning” women suggesting we buy a certain bullshit parenting book to stop the tantrums. It was pretty fucking obvious at that moment when my child was launching herself in to the bin trying to retrieve the “said milkshake” she “WANTED RIGHT NOW” that I did not want her advice. I also did not want her following me to my car while my child was trying to kick me in the head. 

Anyway, it was nice while it lasted, but best I don’t show my face at your establishment for a very long time, unless of course a Country Road opens and then I may lift my ban on the proviso my children are not with me and I am wearing a disguise.

Thanks for the memories,

bigwords x