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It’s a Saturday. It’s just ten days before Christmas and we are actually going to the Jungle City Shopping Centre. This begs the question, are we out of our minds?

This is the same place where they had to get the tactical response unit in because some youths were gathering in the food court. How good are your group nouns? They had to break up a snoop of youths who looked like they were going to spend their lives living in the gangsta’s paradise. They were all running, but half of them ain’t looking, what’s going on in the kitchen, but I don’t know what’s cooking…

There’s going to be no parking. From the second we walk through the sliding doors we’re going to be walking into the eye of the storm, a super tornado of shoppers, car raffles, prams, giant pretzles, trolleys, and toddlers in push cars

We’re going to be bombarded with every conceivable Christmas carol and we’re going to be served by wired staff in Santa hats and tinsel earrings. We’re not going to be able to find anything we (think we) need

LittleSquib is going to want to go to the toilet at the precise point in the mall that is the furthermost from every toilet in the complex. She is also going to feel it is her born right to go on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle helicopter coin ride and the Wiggles merry-go-round. Furthermore I am not going to have the requisite two dollar coins required to make the rides jiggle for twenty seconds

Finally when we can’t take much more we’re going to end up in the food court, circling like a kettle of vultures for a table for four, amongst the seething masses of undead shoppers who are all gnawing on stale prawn crackers and cold fries

There could even be dragons to contend with