Just like her momma

So I told Eldest last night, “We should go shopping tomorrow and get you some clothes that fit.”

She’s a hard kid to fit. She’s extremely skinny, but ‘normal’ tall for her age. A six ‘slim’ fits her waist, but hits her at the ankles. An eight slim is waaaaaaaay too big around the middle.

Anyway. She seemed moderately interested last night, but now that it’s time to go?

In a minute.
Hang on.
Can we wait until this show is over?
Wait. Can I have some cheese first?
I wanna go potty before we leave. {time passes, time passes, time passes}

Honestly. You’d think a kid would want to go shopping with mommy (and mommy’s credit card). I mean, granted, she’s only eight. I have some years to go before the teenager-fashion-squealing-OMG-that-is-so-totally-{whatever word will mean ‘rad’ by that time}.

But still.

She has been dithering around stalling long enough that I came in here…checked email…checked blogs…read some news…checked email again…

I’m about two seconds from leaving without her. I will buy her the most ludicrous, ill-fitting stuff I can find and then make her wear it by removing EVERYTHING ELSE from her closet. Don’t like it? Really? THEN MAYBE NEXT TIME YOU CAN COME WITH ME, instead of stalling and dithering and dragging your booted little heels until I give up on you and leave without you!!!!!

**sigh**

She.
Is.
Just.
Like.
Her.
Momma.

Shopping? What, now? Right now? Do we hafta? Oh, MAN! **sigh** roll eyes, drag feet, whine…