Mummy Princess goes to Fucking Primark – A Notaneffingfairytale Fairytale

Once upon a time in there was a beautiful Princess called Kate, who had lots of money. So much money in fact, that she could spend five grand on a dress that she would only wear one fucking time, just to be photographed for the Daily Mail, looking bored while shaking a Prime Ministers hand.

Princess Kate always looked wonderfully neat and well turned out as she had people to iron her clothes and straighten her hair and shit, and I bet she doesn’t have to get dressed while running down the stairs chasing a toddler who is sucking the cats tail.

A few miles away from Kate (well, Kate’s London home, anyway) lived a poor, bedraggled Mummy Princess. Mummy Princess was a jealous old cow and spent far too many hours looking at photographs of Princess Kate and proclaiming her “too skinny” and saying things like “ that cow is far too privileged and fucking bone idle. I’ll ponce about shaking hands and trying to look sincere and flying about on my private jet and call it a job if you like”.

Mummy Princess likes to look at photos of Princess Kate and compare herself to the perfect one. Mummy Princess doesn’t come out favorably – she is fat, poor and stressed. Mummy Princess has to look after her heir and spare herself and has no one to help her with her hair. This means that far from floating around looking serene, Mummy Princess is usually screaming at a child or two and looking like she’s just been dragged though a hedge backwards.

This is Mummy Princess v’s Princess Kate:

I know, I know it’s actually quite hard to tell them apart.

 

Why don’t you stop being so fucking bitter and go to the gym or go on a diet then,” said that evil mother fucker, Daddy Prince as Mummy Princess slagged of Kate yet again, “either that or stop fucking moaning. God save the Queen and all that shit

 

Fuck you, dickhead!” said Mummy Princess as she stuffed another iced finger into her mouth, “I ‘ll go on a diet and join the gym the day you get off your fat, lazy backside and do some housework.”

This is what is called ‘checkmate’. Daddy Prince will never get off his lazy arse and lift a duster, so Mummy Princess will never have to go to the gym or stop eating takeaways.

I know” said Mummy Princess,“I am going to piss off shopping. I am going to go and spend lots of money on clothes and make up and shoes and shit.”

So, off she fucked to the shops, unfortunately, with Princess Tantrum in tow, because that fucker Daddy Prince had ‘work’ to do so couldn’t possibly look after her for an hour.

Princess Tantrum doesn’t like shopping. Princess Tantrum doesn’t like anything that doesn’t include breaking shit while watching people open Kinder Eggs on YouTube, so Mummy Princess knew this wasn’t going to be an easy day.

What Mummy Princess didn’t expect was to get accused of shoplifting, get stuck inside a dress or to get her foot stuck in a bin.

Yes, that’s right. All of those things happened to poor Mummy Princess, in fucking Primark of all places.

Where do fat, poor people go to buy their clothes?” Pondered Mummy Princess as she walked into the shopping center scoffing down a McDonald’s cheeseburger.

Just then, Princess Tantrum pointed excitedly to a window filled with sequins and tat, and suddenly Mummy Princes knew: Primark.

As Mummy Princess made her way around the shop, her eyes were assaulted with all sorts of ghastly slogans and brightly coloured prints. Mummy Princess didn’t want to look like a circus clown, so she was getting worried until she spied a rack full of plain, black dresses.

“Oh here we go!” Said Mummy Princess to a bored and wailing Princess Tantrum “I’ll have to take four sizes into the changing room as I have no bloody idea what pissing size I will be from one bastard shop to the next.

Whaaa” screamed Princess Tantrum as she pulled the buggy hood over her head.

That’s good – maybe the little Fucker will fall asleep so I can go and sit in Costa afterwards.” Thought Mummy Princess hopefully.

It took Mummy Princes around 45 minuets to locate the changing rooms, by which time she was a sweating mess.

Mummy Princess squeezed into the tiny changing cubicle with the Bugaboo and tried on the biggest dress.

It was too big! This made Mummy Princess very happy.

She tried on the second biggest size dress. That was too big as well!

Fuck you, Daddy Prince! I am having a Pizza tonight!” squawked Mummy Princess as she punched the air.

The next size dress fitted ok. A little snug, but as always, Mummy Princess was going to lose a stone by the end of the month, so it would all be ok in the end. Mummy Princess should have just left it there, but no. She wanted the label, that no other bugger would ever see, to say a smaller number, just to make herself feel better.

It’s a bit loose round the tits” thought Mummy Princess, trying to convince herself that she could still breathe, “I’d better try on a smaller one just incase”.

Mummy Princess pulled the smaller dress over her head. She huffed. She puffed. She turned a bit red, but finally, she got the bastard on. Mummy Princess looked in the mirror and looking back at her was a big, fat mess, shoved into a dress a size too small. She looked like an over stuffed sausage.

With a heavy heart, Mummy Princess realised that she would have to buy the larger size. So she started to take the dress off.

She got as far as pulling the dress up over her armpits and then she realised that the dress was no longer moving.

Yes, poor, fat, sweaty Mummy Princess was stuck in a dress in a Primark changing room.

 Mummy Princess huffed and puffed some more and started to cry a bit. The more she struggled, the more stuck she became.

Is everything okay in there?” came a voice from outside.

Mummy Princess now had two choices: She could die in the Primark changing room, or she could ask the skinny, seventeen year old assistant for help.

Mummy Princess thought long and hard about what to do and contemplated a long, slow death in the changing cubicle.

I’m stuck” said Mummy Princess after a while, “can you come in and pull this bastard dress off me please?

In the end it took two, skinny, seventeen year old assistants to pull Mummy Princess free of the dress – and this is where the bin comes in. One of them thought it would be a good idea if Mummy Princess braced herself against the lid of the swing bin.

As Mummy Princess could hear quite a crowd gathering and wanted this over with before Princess Tantrum woke from her nap screaming, she did as she was told. As the girls pulled and she braced, Mummy Princesses foot slipped and got caught in the swing top of the bin. This proved to be a good thing though, because as Mummy princess fell to the floor, the dress slipped over her head and she was released from the cheap, nylon trap.

 As Mummy Princess lay sweating on the ground in her ten year old, greying bra and granny pants, the two young assistants and the small crowd of onlookers laughed heartily.

Mummy Princess hastily pulled back on her trusty maternity leggings (Mummy Princess has not been pregnant for nearly three years), grabbed the pushchair and ran from the shop as fast as she could.

As she ran thought the doors, the alarms began to sound.

 “What the fucking hell is going on now?” wailed Mummy Princess, trying not to cry.

It turns out, that while Mummy Princess was spending fucking forever locating the changing rooms, Princess Tantrum had been busy beneath the pram hood shoving lipsticks and sparkly shit under her nappy.

Now poor Mummy Princess can never go to Primark again, which is just as well because she fucking hates it.

 

Mouse Moo Me Too

23 Comments »

  1. Ahahaha!! I feel your pain but this was hilarious. I went to primark the other day. Found a dress I liked… there was a huge rail … but it was only in size 8 or 10. I left the shop FURIOUS! I got stuck in some jeans in h & m while I was pregnant. There’s no panic like it. Luckily I managed to get myself out of them, it was tense though!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hahaha! That happened to me in Primark once and I had to rip the damn thing to get it off, much to the horrified titters of the svelte little biatches in the next door cublicle. I then ranted about how they must have changed their sizes, having always fitted in a 12 perfectly there before. Then I realised no, actually I was just getting fat. #chucklemums

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  3. Haha, oh you make me laugh. I got stuck in some skinny jeans in River Island once (this was when I felt able to shop in shops like River Island). I panicked and got really hot and started to sweat which didn’t help matters. Just glad I didn’t have to enlist the help of any shop assistants! #chucklemums

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Jesus I got stuck in a dress in NEXT in the summer. I literally thought I was gonna die in this dress – I couldn’t get it up over my shoulders and it was like a fucking £80 dress that I was terrified to rip! Got out eventually, ran out there, cried in the car for a bit then went home and drank a bottle of wine #stayclassymama

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  5. That shop is horrendous at the best of times, let alone with a toddler in tow! Never going there again is probably no loss (until you want to replace your mat leggings with others that will stretch out of all shape after the first wash). #stayclassmama

    Liked by 1 person

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