I'm sorry, Mom

There comes a time in every mom's life when she recognizes that it is time to apologize to her mother for one thing or another. My oldest did not go to soccer practice tonight. She is still hacking and gagging and waiting for her ENT appointment. She has a game on Sunday and needed to conserve what health she has for that day. She is also growing like a weed and is in desperate need for clothes. So I took her to the mall for some much needed clothes shopping. When I was her age, I was never a big shopper. I still am not today. There were about three brands of clothing, two of shoes, that got my attention back then. Outback Red with the gorgeous red headed safari clad model was my favorite:



I saved up big time for that stuff. The next was Esprit...we all had to have that drawstring sack purse in bright colors:



And Vintage Banana Republic when the clothes were something my dreams were made of...lovely seasoned leathers, khakis and drab greens and super cool tshirts:



Wait, I see a trend here. Safari wear. Okay, I admit it. I dreamt of being clad in multi-pocketed pants, a floral Henley and a hat with one flap up whilst riding in a jeep with Bryan Brown throught the Outback...wearing a Swatch...and Converse Chuck Taylors. Fast forward to now? I still would wear that and do. Well, the Chucks and pants. So when I walked into the stores that my sweet faced first born desired to visit, I was assaulted with a cacophony of uncomfortably loud, thumping music and surgically bright lights OR the same music with such low light and strong cologne that I had to use my phone flashlight, while coughing uncontrollably, to try and see the color of tshirts. Was I in a clothing store or at a rave? It was a toss up. While the kind, and I genuinely mean that, employee helped S pick and match pieces and make outfits, I sat down and texted my mom. Me: I feel the need to apologize for all the times you had to take me clothes shopping while in a parent hostile environment. I understand your annoyance with my constant dancing and singing Duran Duran while perusing the racks of olive green pants. Mom: Oh my. Me: I am so sorry. Mom: I'll say a prayer for you. We ended up finding a cute skirt and shirt plus a few tshirts and some sandals. I had to call her down for dancing and singing to Avicii in a rack crowded store. Not bad for a mini shopping trip. I must remember to carry motrin in my purse and possibly ear plugs on any other outings.

She is now slumbering sweetly in her bed. I am watching Hannibal and am still sneezing out the smell of Hollister. Living the dream.
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