We had a bit of a England Football Team Gogo purchasing frenzy at the weekend. Something to do with my minor obsession with getting a Theo Walcott Gogo. We still haven’t found Walcott, or Cappello, which might be just as well in the case of the latter.
Anyway, I lined them up to see if we had enough to start today against Slovenia, and this was what we had.
So I drafted in a few extra to make up the numbers and inject some footballing grey matter and searing pace down the left wing. The Angel With The Chipped Wing just angled into shot on its own account.
It’s as well I took the shot at the weekend. CJ the Gogo manager, despite sleeping with them and bringing them with her in her marble bag into my bed too, gave them all away bar Heskeyon a free transfer at school yesterday 😦 She has learned nothing from the Crouch/Rooney debacle it seems.
Fair enough, I’ve been having my biltong with Fabio, but when the chips are down (like this afternoon) I am right behind the team and as the Manager has finally admitted to “perhaps” having made some “mistakes” I am feeling a bit more optimistic.
So, the weekend’s Gogo Holy Grail Mission saw us managing to source five of the little devils – three regular ones and two super special England World Cup Football squad ones.
The youngest trotted off to school with them in a redundant marble bag and with strict instructions to swap or trade and not give away.
Yesterday she returned and, feeling through the bag, I can sense we only have three left. I know which two have gone before I even look inside…
Luckily I did their mug shots at the weekend. How prescient.
Now what, her stated aim was to collect all 20+
What do I do? Go in to school this morning and eyeball the little robbers that didn’t trade fairly with my daughter, dob them in to the teacher, or accept that life is hard and that inch high Gogos are always going to get it 😕
Point for correctly naming the two, poor, lost Gogos.
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you probably don’t have a 5 year old.
These little plastic nightmares are driving me nuts.
The youngest came home a few weeks ago and said, I must have Gogos now or my life cannot continue. She has never said anything of this nature before. Firstly I had to establish what the heck she was talking about. She explained that they are GOGOs, stupid. She then told me where I could buy them. We went where she said, no Gogos. She said well go here – same thing. In the end (and this was a life and death mission) we found some second-hand (i.e. expensive vintage Gogos) at the Dragon’s Castle, as you do.
So far so Gogo. Now it seems she has played “Keepsies” with them. This involves her losing all her Gogos to her classmates and I am again under the worst pressure known to a mother – that of a fixated five year old. There will be no peace until I have sourced more Gogos.
I have however banned her from playing “Keepsies” with them or stuffing them up her nose.