The escalator is evil

See all these happy people, smiling and excited on the HandM escalator?

This was not today's reality.

When packing for the trip, I knew Viv would wear uniforms during the week so she wouldn't need many regular clothes and she's been growing so the easiest solution was to wait until we arrived in Belfast, then take her to HandM to see what doesn't gape at the waist or look like capris.

But then the escalator took her down. Oh, people. You know what it's like. C'mon. Every single one of you has lost balance or footing or stepped wrong. Am I right? I hope so, because I told Viv it happens to everyone once, then you learn what it's like and afterward are always a bit more aware.

She really ate it. It was all arms and legs and bags and me saying, "go ahead and stand up" because maintaining calm in key. But in my head I was thinking, "oh, crap! Don't suck my kid into your scissor-like grip, you awful contraption! Gah!" But on the outside, cool as Cool Whip.

She stood up, rode the rest of the way down to the next level, then I brought her out of the main area and we sat on the floor so she could have a good cry because sometimes when life surprises us, we have too much emotion and crying helps release that emotion that has no tether.

A lovely saleswoman came up to ask to see if Viv was okay and Viv told her she just needed a minute. Then she looked at me and said, "can we go in the lift?"

I thought two things:
1. It's so freaking awesome she just said "lift"
2. Absolutely not. This escalator can't have power over you.

So I explained to her that she had to go on the escalator and that it's like all the times I fell off a horse: I had to get back on right away so the nerves didn't build up. Having the yips about escalators for a lifetime would make for inconveniences beyond measure.

To the escalator we went. I told her I'd carry all the bags, she'd wear her coat zipped up so it didn't move too much, we'd stop at the beginning of it so we could time our step on, and we'd do it together.

Then I fed her Burger King.  Don't judge. That kid needed something familiar and comforting and it forced her confront escalators again.

Viv's future

We also went to a toy store to get a birthday present for a party this Saturday -- how great that she's already been invited to a party! Two gifts were chosen and I know they're good because Viv is slightly desperate to have one of them for herself. It taunts her a little.

Here's a Belfast siren:

We took the bus to City Centre, then back home, and Viv came up with our afternoon plan:
1. unpack the bags
2. bath
3. story
4. dinner
5. play
6. bed

That cute pink coat she wears has a slippery fabric on the back of the hood where her hair is -- the back of her head is like a rat's nest. I knew it'd take a looooong time to brush out all those knots with a non-hurty brush, so She-Wolves: England's Early Queens was Netflixed (can I make that past tense?) and we watched about Matilda and Elinor.