I just got in from shopping with my mom at the mall. I set out to find a par-tay dress for this Saturday night—wa-whoooo. My girlfriends are taking me out in NYC to a club to celebrate my birthday.
When I invited my mom along on this shopping adventure she was cautious at first. This is because I was a “horror” to shop with as a tween and teenager.
“Are you going to spend hours looking for a dress that you made up in your head and get mad when you can’t find it?” she asked. “No, mom, I’m not sixteen!” I said.
Then she started reminding me about how I was a “disaster” to shop with when we were looking for my Sweet 16 dress.
“We went to 30 stores, Christine.” I promised her I would find something 1-2-3, because I needed to Christmas shop for JD as well. She agreed to come. “I’ll buy you lunch!” I said. “Bonus!” and I made jazz hands. Still, it was funny to hear her describe me as this insane person to shop with since I equate shopping with JD to tight rope walking with an apple on my head.
As predicted, I found 5 dresses in Bloomingdale’s and bought one. Here it is … the top is sheer and the bottom is bedazzled, fitted and short.
“That’s short,” my mom said. “I’m wearing it with black tights and bootie boots—it’s ideal.”
We went to lunch. I paid. Something else that stunned her, ha!
After lunch I bought JD some clothes and toys, then we stopped in Sephora so I could restock some makeup. A sales woman approached us cheerfully. I had already found my mineral makeup, but was struggling to find the Nars section among the clutter of women and strollers. Sigh, strollers: JD is in full day Kindergarten now. I miss my lil mush.
“Can I help you,” the sales woman asked.
“Yes, I need an orgasm!” I said.
My mom looked at me like I was deranged. And fled. FLED.
The sales girl laughed, but knew exactly what I was talking about. Every makeup artists’ go-to blush: Orgasm by Nars.
I paid and walked out into the mall to find my 63-year-old mom sitting on a bench.
My mom looked so confused. “Did you mean to say that and so loud?” she said.
I whipped out the little black box and pointed to the print with my finger: “Orgasm.”
“Yes!” I said, loudly, laughing. “Ohhhhhhh yes!” I said teasing her.
“You’re acting like such a kid!” she said. “There’s something wrong with you,” she joked.
And, yes, I’m a big kid at heart.
I can’t believe at almost 32 I can still embarrass my mom! Hooray! I’m used to JD embarrassing me when he declares, “I have to poo!” during a nice dinner out or says “BullSh*t!” out of nowhere. (Thanks Uncle Bri.)
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