Desi Bhaccha

I have quite a tight budget when it comes to clothes buying (London is muchos muchos expensive to live in), but I try to make sure my children are always dressed well. Little Lady in girly jeans and pretty tops or if she gets changed before I get home, in party dresses. The boys in jean and funky tops or shirts (of course the tops always match their socks – I know sick isn’t it?). No jogging bottoms outside of bed, no tracksuits and sensible shoes instead of cartoon trainers (although my mum has been gifting Little Lady pink cowboy boots, diamante high-heel sandals and pretty Indian slippers).

To help my husband dress them while I am work, I make sure everything I buy matches everything they have already. Little Lady – pink, lilac, white, denim. Boys – denim, blue, beige, chocolate, green and red. So you would think that would be the end of it. Kids co-ordinated and happy.

A few days ago I came home from work to find the baby dressed like this:

My uncle in Pakistan gave me this for Gorgeous (Little Man got a yellow version) despite my protestations. The better half insisted Gorgeous wanted to wear it. Maybe he saw me killing myself with laughter, but when I got home poor mite started to pull his pants down and insist “chaami taro, chaami taro” (take my pants off). Of course he had to wear it till bedtime and his wife will be seeing this picture one day insh’Allah!!