I took The Denizens to the mall today, because I a) had been told, many times and by various people, that they were “out” of wearable clothes and/or shoes, b) was finally confident that that big check I’d eventually received was fully through the system and not still in a state where it could theoretically still bounce, and c) had apparently lost my damned mind.
We can start this little adventure at get-outta-bed-o’clock, when I announced to the female Denizens that we were going to undertake this. I should have known right then what was going to happen, because they immediately all began talking at once…about the anime store, and the book store, and every OTHER store which does not carry clothes.
Hmm. So I assumed my best Mom Expression and said, sternly, “We are going to get clothes and shoes for school. I need you to think about and/or go through what you have, and figure out what is missing.”
Uh-huh.
Eventually, we got out the door. And then we got lunch.
During the playoff game.
On the bright side, the sound of my girls hyperactively singing various anime theme songs and arguing the fine points of fighting styles (arcane and otherwise) employed by various characters went unheard thanks to the fairly constant shrieks and groans from the fan-base.
Meanwhile, I was grilling them about what, exactly, they needed.
This met with limited success.
Apparently, my girls are completely unaware of what clothes even are, and are therefore quite perplexed by questions such as “how many long-sleeved shirts do you own?” or “Do you have shoes that do not let rain-water in?”
{blank stares} “Oooooooo, well, yes, except, I can’t wear the {pants, shoes, jackets, shirts, socks, etc.} because they’re {too small, have more ‘hole’ than ‘crotch,’ no longer have soles, etc.}”
{rubs temples}
“OK, look, new rule: If you can’t wear it for any reason, that counts as not having it…”
“Oooooooo. Well, then I don’t have any pants…”
“YES YOU DO, YOU HAVE THOSE ONES YOU WOULDN’T LET ME BORROW LAST WEEK!”
“NOT-UH, THOSE AREN’T THOSE BECAUSE THEY HURT MY LEGS!”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT YOU SAID LAST WEEK, BOO!”
“THOSE AREN’T EVEN THE SAME ONES!”
“YES. THEY. ARE!”
“NO. THEY. AREN’T!!”
“YES. THEY…”
“EVERYBODY SHADDUP RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME GAH I WILL TURN THIS VAN AROUND AND WE WILL JUST GO HOME AND YOU CAN ALL WEAR PAPER BAGS OR PENCIL BOXES!!”
THEN, we got to the mall, where we immediately went into JcPennys Macys Target Old Navy Barnes and Noble.
Where we proceeded to spend almost half of what I’d mentally set aside for clothes on things like…a Japanese dictionary for Eldest. A “read and build with Legos” book for Captain Adventure. A journal for Danger Mouse. The latest installment of Drama for Boo Bug. And a fistful of knitting/spinning/fiber-arty magazines for me.
…sigh…
This is my fault entirely. I know how I am. For me, walking past a bookstore is exactly like a recovering alcoholic walking past a bar at happy hour; or a former smoker standing outside with coworkers who are having a smoke.
That peculiarly delicious ink-and-book-paper smell is worse than crack for me. It suspends all common sense, my ability to perceive the passage of time, even my sense of purpose.
Upshot being: I should never, ever, ever say to myself, “Eh, let’s just cut through the Barnes and Noble on our way to where the clothes are.”
With most of the day now gone, but resolute, I herded my cats kids into the Mall Proper…even though by now, I was coming to the conclusion that there was simply no way any clothes and/or shoes would be purchased, since the feedback I was getting from my adorable offspring was nothing but confusion around the whole concept of dressing themselves, and that they were frankly puzzled by the whole question of “what are you lacking to clothe your nekkidness?”
By the time we left the book store, I had already rather scrapped the plan for the day…it was getting late, Captain Adventure was starting to look a bit strained by all the huff and bother (plus he had that Lego-book thing, which, you know…one really should be able to just rush right home to unwrap and get started when one finds such a treasure as that while out shopping…), and frankly I was starting to flag a bit too. (And had new knitting magazines. Not quite the level of awesome as the Lego-thing, but, pretty darned close.)
Plus I was getting a bit hoarse from hollering, “Stop yammering about {anime, Glee, ringtones, manga, art paper}, look me in the eye, and tell me: do. you. have. ANY. long-sleeved. shirts?!”
So I wasn’t entirely surprised when instead of a clothes store, we they somehow ended up browsing around the anime store going “Shriek! it’s a Hetalia poster!” and other embarrassingly geeky things.
Nor was I surprised to get home and realize that the count of new clothes was zero.
I…think…I’m just going to…hit the Internet.
It’s much quieter.
And a lot easier on my feet.
…oy…!
