Tuesday, July 6, 2010

If the dress fits...

Holy strawberries, Batman! We're in a jam!--Robin (Batman and Robin)

I was in the store with my mom when it happened. I left her in the “Mom Section” and ventured out on my own. My shopping senses picked up a scent and my nose shot up in the air to take a whiff. I turned my head to the left and spotted a red and yellow sign.

70% Off. Hot damn!

I combed the first rack and right on the edge sat a black and white dress. I spotted the little pink sales sticker…$59.99 marked down to $17.99! Oh, be still my beating heart! Yeah, I'm a sale slut.
I snatched it up and held it at arm’s length to mentally scan my shoes and belts for possible matches. It was worth a try-on so I slung it over my arm and headed back to find mom.

“Oh, that’s really cute. Where did you get it?” She asked.
I pointed in the direction of the sales rack. “Over there where it says 70% off.”
“Where? Over here?” I moved my eyes slowly in the direction of her voice. My head joined in a few seconds later.
What the…?
“Oh, I see it.” She said as she ran her hands along the clothes.
Was she looking for her size? No. Couldn’t be.
“That’s not my size.” She mumbled.
I heard the music from Psycho play over the loud speaker.
“Do you see my size?”
My brain ceased all functions and I moved on auto pilot towards her.
“I found one.” She said.
I screamed and passed out. Oh, wait. That only happened in my head.
“I’m going to try it on, too.”
Aw hell. A generator kicked in and jolted my brain. I needed a plan. Okay. After I put my head between my knees and gnawed my lip off, I was going to tell her it didn’t fit. Problem solved.
But my little 7-year-old clone followed me. She perched herself on the small seat and waited patiently. If I didn’t try that dress on she was going to snitch. Dammit! Bullied by my own kid.
I picked up the dress, wrestled it over my head, and tugged it down. It was hideous. Yes!
“I don’t like it!” I shouted over the wall.
“Me either!” She shouted back.
I zoomed out of the fitting area, jumped onto Denial, and rode it right out of the mall.

I rode along for a minute or two before Denial needed a tune-up. I spotted Flabbergasted and Discombobulated across the street. They had a full tank of gas and were headed to L.A., so I hitched a ride.

I love my mom dearly. But, she’s 68-years-old. She has her own style and I have mine. They don’t play well together and until that day had stayed in their own corners. Either they had watched Elmo and learned a lesson in sharing or something was wrong.
Had I really reached that point in my life? Impossible.

I rolled my eyes to the top of my head and looked around. P.Y.T. was trying on lip gloss and G&S was reading a book. I glanced over at Style Duchess. Yeah, I have one of those and some others I’m sure you’ll meet over time.

She had a sign on her door. “Gone to the spa xoxoxo,” it read.

That was it! She does that periodically and it’s cool because even she needs a break. When she’s on vacation I know not to go within twenty miles of a store. But, she snuck off without warning and I was tagged by a matronly dress. Obviously.

To save myself from myself, the next time I go shopping with my mom I'm burying my wallet in the yard and handcuffing my hands to my belt loops. I'm not taking any chances.


  1. OMG!!! LOL!! Can't wait to see what you write next...