Something was missing.
I was walking past the neighbouring cottages. Past Rose Cottage with the whimsical flowers growing inside the stone Wellington boots, past Button Hall, the white weatherboard house which was situated next to the duck pond.
My arms were merrily swinging by my side, and when I reached the red post box I checked my mobile phone for the time. My brown suede boots hurried a little when I realised I was walking too slow for my appointment.
So what was missing? Why was everything different?
Had I forgotten to wear my jeans? Nope, I'm not quite silly enough for that. Had the sun suddenly disappeared and the sky turned a deep shade of purple? Nope, not as far as I could see.
Have you guessed yet, dear reader?
I was minus Tommy!
He was not in my arms, pulling my already untidy hair and trying to remove my glasses.
He was not in a pram I was pushing, sucking his teddy bear dummy and gazing up at the fluffy clouds above.
At this point, let me step in and confirm he was perfectly safe. Mum was babysitting, I'd left him clawing at the cupboard box on the sofa (he does have toys, but it really is true what they say, kids are quite happy playing with the boxes).
I was off for a much needed trip to my local hairdressers, and boy did it feel different without Tommy.
I stepped inside the salon and within two minutes I was talking about him.
"Yep, it's my first time here. Mum's babysitting my little boy and told me to have some Nikki time and sort my hair out!"
With that, the nice two ladies who worked in the salon were asking me all sorts of questions about my little 'un. Even the Italian lady, who was sitting next to the chair I was shown to, asked if I had any pictures. Of course I was happy to oblige, however this time I only showed the one photo, I've seen the restless eyes when I exhibit my mobile's entire camera roll.
There were lots of appreciative noises when I paraded his cheeky smile. I sipped the coffee which appeared on the silver trolley and tried to think of another conversation apart from Tommy. Might I add that a hot drink was a rare treat, I'm normally too concious of spilling anything hot on Tommy's head/hands.
I enquired how long the spiky haired lady, who was searching for the colours for my hair, had worked at the salon. It turned out that she also owns the pet grooming parlour, next to the new interior design shop. It's always good to gather background information regarding the village and soon I realised I was babbling away.
You see, normally on a Tuesday I'm watching a dog who DJs on a tropical island (Tommy loves it, he smiles at the dog as though he's real and talking to him) or I'm singing along with the cookie jar which Tommy is poking his head into.
Therefore, I think you can understand why I was lapping up adult conversation.
In the middle of discussing why the interior design shop was not allowed to advertise on the barn facing the main road, my mind wondered. Was Tommy okay? Had he finished all his milk? He was due a nap about now, I hoped he wasn't over tired. Had he realised I was missing?
It was no good, I had to text my mum.
Excusing myself from another foil placed in my hair, I bent down to scoop up my phone. Relived, I could see my mum had already texted an update. All was well, Tommy was sleeping.
I continued babbling. Maybe it was the coffee? I lead a virtually caffeine free life these days.
After all foils were placed in hair, I was presented with a magazine. Wow, a whole magazine for me to read. Not skim through whilst Tommy's little hands were scrunching the pages. Or place in the basket on the brick fireplace with all the other magazines to read at a later date.
Through habit I read the magazine at top speed, still expecting a little hand to cover the page, doing it's best to interrupt and destruct.
Well this is great, I thought to myself, as I agreed to another coffee and a digestive biscuit. My second hot drink, and a sugary snack, what a delight. The biscuit was very much needed as I had been too busy sorting Tommy's bottles and stage one of weaning food for the day, that I'd forgot to feed myself.
After ear wigging the Italian ladies plight, she'd fallen over, banged her head and as a result had not been able to smell or taste for eight months (fancy that!) I decided to text all my friends to see how they were. I rarely have time to text these days, unless Tommy has fallen asleep on me and my phone is to hand, annoyingly it's often not.
Next it was time for my hair wash. So relaxed was I that I nearly fell asleep (the caffeine had worn off) until I remembered to check all was okay with Tommy. Had he had enough sleep? Enough milk? Had he realised I was missing?
Half an hour later my hair actually looked half decent. No dark roots rudely peeking through, no hair clip failing to keep it neat and tidy. It was blondish again, it was clean, it was brushed.
I thanked the spiky haired lady, whose name I learnt was Kelly, wished her good luck for her appointment with a medium next Monday, which had been discussed mid-thinking and talking about Tommy, and feeling like a new woman I exited the salon.
I immediately texted my mum to inform her I was on my way back and was Tommy okay?
What a lovely afternoon I'd had, I thought to myself, as I hurried home. Without a huge bag full of nappies, baby wipes, changing mat, nappy bags, bottle, spare outfit, etc.
My empty arms were swinging by my side, my lonely brown boots walked as fast as they possibly could. I barely noticed my surroundings, I was desperate to be home again.
Crikey I was missing Tommy.