Tags 'R Us

Whilst I continue to hate shopping, I have discovered a hidden, shopping-related talent which I am considering as a career change.

I am excellent at tagging along.

Yummy Mummy and I recently spent a Wednesday and Friday out (with lunch obv.) looking for curtain and blind fabric for her dining room. The dyslexic leading the colour blind.

I tagged along.

It's relatively simple. You trail about a yard behind, hold shopping bags, alert shop assistants, nod in agreement in all the right places and feed parking meters. Oh and go in search of suitable candidates for purchase, having been given a very strict set of instructions.

As a bonus by-product, you also make purchases - three dogwood trees, 3 must-have-because-they're-perfect-for-your-kitchen-and-you-like-them-and-you-just-broke-your-favourite-anyway-mugs, new school trousers for JP and a place to get curtains made (finally!)

So the shopping also gets done without you even noticing.

It's Brilliant.

But that's what husbands/boyfriends are for, aren't they? you counter.

Yes, but here's the thing. They complain; can't gossip and tag along at the same time because that's multi-tasking; won't share a pain au chocolat and not everyone has one.

I could hire myself out. Yummy would give me a good reference I'm sure - especially since I spotted the purple, silk fabric she eventually bought (gold star for me). They'll be queuing up to hire me.

This could be my millionaire idea. I could start a matching agency - pairing shoppers with suitable taggers-along.

Watch this space. Oh, and email me if you have shopping plans. I'll check my diary.