Great news is, I put off fall clothes shopping for a good 12 months by the convenience of gestating last year.
Bad news is, I've been wearing maternity jeans for the last 9 months or so.... There's just nowhere to store this fashionable fanny-pack of skin my children have so lovingly bestowed upon me.
So I find my quarter-century-or-so self hating the task of shopping. Not in general. I actually really enjoy looking at dishes or coffee tables or nail polish. Those things always fit.
Why am I going to spend hundreds of dollars on things that will be threadbare, faded and probably out of style in a matter of months? (I say "probably" because you think I can keep up with fashion these days? Girl, please. I ain't no Kate)
Not to mention that that money could be used on any of the more important and necessary purchases I need to make (i.e. fixing the furnace, hiring a maid, getting a pint of Blue Moon at the local public house...)
I could try to save a few bucks and go the the thrift store, but that requires effort (and about three less children). People think I have my hands full when I've piled three children into one behemoth Target shopping cart: one asleep and the other two silently clutching a package of Oreos as if it's the ring of power to their Gollum???? You better believe those people will make an about-face as they approach the crazed woman with her feral children making animal sounds from the bowels of the "women's casual" clothing rack at Value World. They wouldn't know whether to call 911, CPS or animal control.
I suppose I shall have to brave the treacherous waters of retail one of these days. Until then, it looks like a lot of cardigans and elastic in my future.
Sorry, have to go, Alfred Dunner just called.....
Thursday, September 12, 2013
The husband and I occasionally have conversations about a parallel universe in which we never met and therefore are not married (because clearly I would never have found anyone with nearly as perfect of eyebrows as the ones my darling sports).
Many times this conversation points out the fun things we would do or have with the disposable income we would presumably have. Things like: the husband would probably eat at Mexican Fiesta for most meals, or that I would live in a super cute townhouse in a fun city and own WAY more shoes than I presently do.
However, we usually end up noticing the things we wouldn't have. I certainly don't know how I would decorate my house without all of the adorable pictures of my children, and the husband probably wouldn't have the fantastic beard I make him wear (Seriously, the man's beard is phenomenal. So gorgeous. So manly).
You better believe I would not have had season tickets to the Lions 2008 season (best wedding gift ever).
I mean there are some things I could do without: C-section scars, alopecia and crumbs. Everywhere, crumbs. Why. I think I'm sitting on half of a cookie right now that isn't mine, and maybe a grape from three weeks ago that's been ground into the carpet.
Mostly, though, I'd miss out on the most obvious thing we wouldn't have.