Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored," patented pathways to parenting and upholstery repair! Let me see that brocade. I'll fix it!
Yesterday evening I kissed The Spare's foot. The Spare is the younger of my two daughters.
Spare and I were shopping at Macy's for a prom dress. Mindful of costs, Spare rejected a few that were beautiful but too expensive. Finally she trundled off to the dressing room, arms loaded with gooey gowns.
The dressing room at Cherry Hill Macy's is pretty large. Spare went into a cubicle, and I sat in the cubicle next door. Across from us was another mother-daughter pair, doing the same chore.
Except that pair seemed to have ascended from the jowls of hell.
It went something like this:
Teenzilla from Hell: Stop looking at me! You're looking at me! You're a lesbo.
Momzilla from Hell: I'm not looking at you. That isn't a good color for you.
Teenzilla: I KNEW it. You are staring at me! Lesbo!
Momzilla: Try on that yellow one.
Teenzilla: No. It will make me look fat!
(assorted rustling sounds)
Teenzilla: See? I told you, Mommmmmm. It makes me look fat! All these dresses make me look fat!
Momzilla: Well, didn't I tell you to lay off the pizza?
Teenzilla: YOU THINK I'M FAT! YOU THINK I'M FAT!
At this point The Spare appeared in a lovely little lavender number. She sashayed into my cubicle.
Anne: Oh, that's adorable! You look terrific!
Spare: Yeah. This is awesome. But it's kind of expensive.
Anne: It's not terrible. Maybe it'll be on sale at the register. But anyway, who cares? You just look stunning in it.
Spare: I have a little birthday money left.
Anne: Save it. I'll treat you.
Spare sashays back into dressing room to try on something else. At which point the bickering across the way escalates again.
Teenzilla from Hell: I don't like any of these dresses! They make me look fat!
Momzilla from Hell: Well, pick two, because you have to have one to go to Fay's.
Teenzilla: I hate Fay. I'm not going!
Momzilla: You have to go!
Teenzilla: I don't know which of these dresses I like. I want to buy all four.
Momzilla: I'm only buying two, so choose.
Teenzilla: I said I want all four!
Momzilla: I'm only buying two.
Teenzilla: Well then, we're not getting any, because I want them all, or none of them.
(Readers, I am not exaggerating this conversation. In fact, it loses in translation because you can't hear Teenzilla's sneering voice, or see Momzilla's anorexic Yuppie figure.)
So Teenzilla and Momzilla disappeared from the dressing room. That's when I asked The Spare to come into my cubicle, right away, no matter what she was wearing. She came in, barefoot. I told her to put her foot on the stool. She knew before I even bent down that I was going to kiss her foot. And I did!
Well, we had a big laugh, Spare and me, over those two beasts. What we didn't know is that the beasts had returned to the dressing room and were overhearing us. As we left with Spare's choice of dress (one dress, little lavender number), the mom-and-daughter-from-hell stared us down with withering glances.
Which only made us laugh the harder. Spare and I have had our differences to be sure, but never in public, and never over buying four expensive dresses! If Spare ever acted like that, I'd leave her stranded in the store. If I ever acted like the mom in this case, Spare wouldn't even go to the mall with me.
Lord love a fruit fly! What a pair of wretches those gals were! Money can't buy me love.