Flashback #1

After a trip to the mall in early October I sat down and wrote down the following story of my day's adventures. I imagined that one day I would look back on the experience and laugh so today I will share it with you.

Without further ado, I offer a glimpse back in time to October 1, 2007:

Sit back, relax and let me tell you a tale of my shopping trip. It began innocently enough with a nice afternoon, a well rested and fed baby and $75 worth of gift cards burning a hole in my pocket. So I decide to head to the nearest mall. Now this mall is in a well to-do area of town and is mostly full of stores that I dare not enter because I would blow our entire clothing budget on a pair of socks or a belt. But some odd soul gave me a gift card to Neiman Marcus and this mall does have a babyGap so off I go!

Upon entering Neiman’s I notice immediately that I stick out like blue flamingo with my ponytail, flip-flops, and Target pullover. Fortunately for me, most of the pointy-toed shoe wearing, What Not To Wear graduates perusing the store are distracted by my smiling, cooing baby and fail to notice how out of place I look. I’ve never been in the store so I wander around aimlessly looking to see if there is anything I might be able to purchase with my $50 gift card. What was I thinking? I see nothing that will fit in with my current wardrobe of jeans and cotton tops. After discreetly peeking at a few price tags I’m too intimidated to look at any more.

Looking for the exit, I wind up in the kids area and decide to make a last ditch effort to spend some money and see if there is anything cute for the little one. By the way, did you know that they make Juicy Couture stuff for babies?? Including a little girl’s onesie that says “Give me my Juicy!”?? Ridiculous! But I digress. The sales lady in the baby section is not enamored with Mr. B and does not seem exceedingly interested in helping me so I move on. I finally ask for help to find my way out of the self-esteem-crushing store but I don’t make it before beginning to feel very, very low about my sloppy, un-trendy self (and this on a day in which I showered and even applied lip gloss – a good day for me!).

Of course the babyGap is on the complete opposite side of the mall but I decide to have a good attitude about it and count my swift walk as a quasi-workout. I stop by the Anthropologie store because I like to check out their home décor items – you never know when you’ll find a good deal on a cute gift. Bennett is not nearly as interested in the knick-knacks as I and soon starts fussing. Of course I’ve forgotten his paci so I hurry on to spend my Gap money.

I’m thinking surely I’ll find some good summer clothes on sale to tide us over until it starts to actually get cool around here. Bennett is bigger than I expected him to be at this age and most everything I have that fits him now is long-sleeved – but it is still getting into the 90s each day. Lo and behold they are having a great sale at the Gap! BUT even the clearance items are thermals and heavy jackets. Don’t they realize this is Texas...no one will be wearing that stuff for at least another month! Grr…

Bennett is getting fussy so I get him out of the stroller, determined not to leave without spending some free money. He begins to ratchet up the whining and so I stupidly hand him my cup of ice to rattle as I skim through the sale rack. In record time he has the top off and has spilled ice water all over himself. Now he’s screaming.

I’m directed to a restroom with a changing table and discover a blow-out diaper to go with the cold, soaked onesie. Good thing I brought a change of clothes today! As I’m strapping him to the table I get one of those post-labor urgent signals that my Dr. Pepper has made its way through my system and is ready to exit – NOW! Usually if I’m walking around or something I can wait, but as I stand there deciding if I can hold it long enough to change the screaming baby the answer is undeniable.

No. There is not enough time. I am leaking.

I wrangle the red-faced, wailing child who is dirty, soaked and half undressed off the changing table, rush into a stall, undo my jeans with one hand and finish leaking into the toilet. But the damage has been done.

I trash my underwear, hang my jeans over the hand air-dryer and stand bare-tooshied in the bathroom to complete the clean-up and redressing of my little one. Fortunately, my cheap-o Target shirt is nice and long. A lovely young sales girl enters the bathroom and I can only manage to smile and offer no explanation for the strange scene.

Finally, we are both somewhat dry and decently dressed so I hunker down and speed out of that evil place. One afternoon gone…no purchases made.

Maybe I’ll try again next week.