Monday, February 9, 2009

Mall Date

I really hate shopping at the mall. Like, a lot.

I hate how I look in the dressing room. Maybe it's the lighting. Maybe it's my first time looking in a mirror in several weeks. But I hate it so much that I usually carry on the following conversation with myself--after my shocked ego has recovered enough to think clearly: "Really? My family let me out of the house like this? Self, tell me I don't look like this all the time. [long pause.] Crap. I do, don't I? That's great. Well then. I guess I don't need this [highly overpriced cloth item], seeing as it couldn't possibly cure my [acne, love handles, green skin, cold sore scar...]." Dressing rooms have historically saved me a lot of money.

I hate how tired I am after shopping around all day to find the best bargain. I don't ever in good conscience buy the first thing I like. Unless it's 80% off. And it's ridiculously perfect. Which never happens. So I usually end up wandering from store to store liking plenty and buying nothing. Which makes for one long wasted day. And a sore back.

Mostly, I really [really] hate. spending. money. In truth, on the rare occasion that I buy anything [a phenomenon requiring the planets align and give me the perfect outfit at an incredible discount with a less-than-punishing dressing room experience], my stomach drops and I feel sick the rest of the day. I'm sure some of you can relate to that part. [You can relate, right?] 

So when Grace requested to spend her hard-earned chore cash on a single ride at our mall's Merry-Go-Round, I groaned [silently, of course]. But it was her money. And I had promised she could spend it as she wanted. So we went.

I avoided clothing stores. I avoided making direct eye contact with the women who don't need the mall since they are already perfectly coiffed and elegantly accessorized.

And I had a total blast.

We stopped at Starbucks for an incredible cupcake and vanilla flavored milk.

And then Grace and I perused the Disney Store, looking to use her remaining funds for a gift for her friend's birthday party.

Grace paid in quarters, very carefully counting them out in a thankfully empty line behind the register, to a thankfully patient cashier.

We headed back to the car and wrapped the present in paper we found. [My car might be messy, but sometimes the mess comes in handy.] On the way to the party, Grace wrote "CARTER" on the box--something she didn't know she could do.
And she kept repeating, "Oh, I hope Carter likes his present!" Over and over.

It was the perfect Saturday. And it started at the mall. Makes me want to go again.


  1. i totally understand your plight. I can't bear to spend more than $10 on any one item. Makes for frustrating shopping and a closet full of things I don't like. :) Glad you had fun with your daughter this time.

  2. Do you remember shopping in Edinburgh with me and what a horror that was? (i.e. not wanting to decide...not wanting to spend money on a less than perfect item?) The trend continues. I can relate. Luckily for me, you were the most patient friend a woman could ask for.

  3. spending money does make me sick... but only ever *after* I've done it. The sickness never seems to ensue as I'm loading myself up with crap to buy. Sigh.

  4. I loved that story, Grace is so darling. Those pictures made me miss her a lot. She is so smart it's disgusting! Good job parents.

  5. I don't know why I did this, but I snuck a peek at a random friend of yours' blog (does that even make sense, I know its a grammatical nightmare!), and I see she lives in D.C. Is she single? You know...Mike is in D.C....and single, and from what I read in her blog, she intrigues me. Let's set them up, what do you say?

  6. Elise, I know Grace will probably hate this as she grows up, but I can see so much of Brad in her. She's so big, and grown-up in an almost four-year old way. I've probably told you this before, but my husband is an avid follower of your blog (although he'd never think to post a comment). So I'm commenting for the both of us: keep up your brilliant, literary, self-deprecating memiorish posts. We sure do enjoy hearing your voice as we read your thoughts.
    Love, Janae