Csíkszereda Musings

My life in and around Csíkszereda, also known as Miercurea Ciuc.

S-i-z-e of a toddler

Posted by Andy Hockley on 8 June, 2007

(title to be read in the voice of the bloke on the cartoon in the Banana Splits. If you don’t get this reference, don’t worry, that’s a good thing)

I was briefly in the UK last week, and while there I decided to pick up a few clothes for Paula (they are seemingly both cheaper and better quality than the stuff you can get here). However, on returning I have come to the conclusion that toddlers in the UK are huge mutants. Paula is more or less 18 months old, and knowing, as I already did, that the sizes there are massively overstated (or that there is this aforementioned race of giant toddlers crushing rusks in their bare hands, and stamping all over cars) I elected not to buy clothes that were advertised as being suitable for “18-24 months”, and instead got some that were quoted at 12-18 months, reasoning that she might be at the lower end of that inflated scale by now. But no, they are still way, way too big for her. She’ll probably fit into them by the time she reaches about eleven (at which time little body-suit things may even be fashionable for the pre-pubescent girl). And she’s not that small.

Perhaps the UK, being that bastion of progressiveness that we know it to be, has actually, unbeknownst to me, altered its measurement system of time. Perhaps a British month is now actually made up of 64 32-hour days or something. Why do all measurements there have to be different? Why can’t we, as a people, get over this clinging to the past, and get on with things? It must cost everybody a fortune to constantly have to provide conversions everywhere.

I acquired a new nephew this week and on being told of his birth had to convert his weight into a standard one in order to tell people how big he was (he checked in, prematurely, at “5 lbs 14 oz”, which, in normal language, is 2.7kgs give or take a few grams). Anyway, welcome, Henry. This may be your first internet mention. I hope one day you, too, will not understand “imperial” measurements.

Then, I was at a shoe shop with my other nephew and was asked what size Paula’s feet were. “20 or 21” I replied confidently. “What’s that in English measurements”, I was asked (I had no idea, and still don’t)

And another (entirely unconnected) thing – the trouser press. What’s up with that? In hotel rooms in Britain you nearly always find a trouser press. But nowhere else – I’ve never heard of anyone actually owning one privately, or ever seen them on sale anywhere. So why is it de-rigeur for hotels in the UK to have one in every room? And, for that matter, what is a trouser press anyway? It’s like a very very big iron for lazy people. I tried to use one once, in the name of research, and it was really useless. An iron would have much easier. And more flexible because you do other stuff like shirts and that in them. But no, somewhere in history, someone decided that the trouser press is the way to go for hotels.

I feel better now I’ve got all that off my chest.

One Response to “S-i-z-e of a toddler”

  1. Catherine said

    I presume we’ve both missed some Daily Mail why-oh-why or other about children’s clothes shops having to adjust their size upwatds because of a) childhood obesity b) junk food c) existential crisis brought on by absence of Diana Princess of Wales and her love for all mankind (no, I tell a lie – that one’s the Daily Express…)

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