"Popping out"
Here's how it should be:
One quiet morning, a young woman decides she needs a magazine fix. She slips on her shoes and a jacket, grabs her phone, cash and keys to the flat, and walks out of the door.
She has just "popped out".
Here's how it is with a baby thrown into the mix:
A young, exasperated, sleep-deprived woman decides she needs to get herself and her baby out of the house before she goes mad. She spends the next twenty minutes trying to find small socks and shoes, preferably matching, but whatever presents itself first, trying to put both these items and also a jumper, coat and hat onto a very wriggly child, finding her own shoes and coat, putting the shoes back on the now over-heated child who has kicked them off, searching for her keys which have been hidden somewhere by the child, panicking when she realises her wallet is in the changing bag and has had yesterday's milk spilled all over it, catching a glimpse of her face in the mirror and realising she has a visible foundation tide-mark on her left cheek, unfolding a buggy which doesn't want to unfold and so on and so on.
Eventually she leaves the house, a trail of toys and biscuit crumbs in her wake, not noticing that she never did manage to find her keys, or that she also forgot her phone. Or that her tights are laddered.
She has no idea why she is going out anymore, and is certainly not "popping out".