Mom was VERY interested in shopping yesterday.
She had gotten into an argument with Dad because he went off and bought a house and only listed it as his.
SO, Mom was fuming.
I found it understandable that she'd want to do some retail therapy to get over the rage she was feeling, but she was getting a little out of control.
I knew something was wrong the moment this went down:
I'm staring at the Michael Kors watches, and stop to admire this one.
(I've been in need of a watch since... umm... sophomore year of college? I spent all of grade school rocking a watch, and suddenly, I was 20 and watch-less. It felt as if I were naked. Somehow, I never got down to actually buying one. I always left it for tomorrow, when I'd go look for a decent--not Kandy Kid-style-- watch. Now, I don't really miss it)
Mom: Get the watch, AnoMALIE.
Me: Nah. They don't have the one I want.
Mom: But I thought you said this one was pretty... ? You stare at it all the time.
Me: Yes. It's pretty... but it's not my style. It's too glitzy. I don't like bling.
Mom: GET. THE WATCH.
Me: Mom, it's not an emergency. I can live without it.
Mom: GET. THE WATCH!
Me: What is wrong with you? It's 500 dollars. I DON'T NEED IT!
Mom: C'mon, sweetheart... get the watch. I see it in your eyes that you really want it...
I pause and look at her.
What has gotten into this woman??
Me: Mom...
Mom: I owe you a watch... and I'll get you this one...
She almost has me reeled in, here (yeah, leave it to ME to have to be persuaded and sweet-talked into being gifted a 500 dollar watch). She's giving me that friendly little smile she gives me... the one with a twinkle in her eye 'n shit... the same look she gave me when I HAD to tell her I needed a pad because I had my first period. It reassures me... but creeps me out at the same time... like... if she were telling me to trust her and put my hand on a mouse trap, she'll be holding it so no harm comes my way... but I KNOW that shit's gonna snap all over my knuckles.
Mom: I'll buy you what EVER you want... (whispers in my ear) just don't ever tell me you hate going to church...
And THAT made me frown and feel like shit.
I walked away from the watches, with nothing but a huge knot in my throat.
She had gotten into an argument with Dad because he went off and bought a house and only listed it as his.
SO, Mom was fuming.
I found it understandable that she'd want to do some retail therapy to get over the rage she was feeling, but she was getting a little out of control.
I knew something was wrong the moment this went down:
I'm staring at the Michael Kors watches, and stop to admire this one.
(I've been in need of a watch since... umm... sophomore year of college? I spent all of grade school rocking a watch, and suddenly, I was 20 and watch-less. It felt as if I were naked. Somehow, I never got down to actually buying one. I always left it for tomorrow, when I'd go look for a decent--not Kandy Kid-style-- watch. Now, I don't really miss it)
Mom: Get the watch, AnoMALIE.
Me: Nah. They don't have the one I want.
Mom: But I thought you said this one was pretty... ? You stare at it all the time.
Me: Yes. It's pretty... but it's not my style. It's too glitzy. I don't like bling.
Mom: GET. THE WATCH.
Me: Mom, it's not an emergency. I can live without it.
Mom: GET. THE WATCH!
Me: What is wrong with you? It's 500 dollars. I DON'T NEED IT!
Mom: C'mon, sweetheart... get the watch. I see it in your eyes that you really want it...
I pause and look at her.
What has gotten into this woman??
Me: Mom...
Mom: I owe you a watch... and I'll get you this one...
She almost has me reeled in, here (yeah, leave it to ME to have to be persuaded and sweet-talked into being gifted a 500 dollar watch). She's giving me that friendly little smile she gives me... the one with a twinkle in her eye 'n shit... the same look she gave me when I HAD to tell her I needed a pad because I had my first period. It reassures me... but creeps me out at the same time... like... if she were telling me to trust her and put my hand on a mouse trap, she'll be holding it so no harm comes my way... but I KNOW that shit's gonna snap all over my knuckles.
Mom: I'll buy you what EVER you want... (whispers in my ear) just don't ever tell me you hate going to church...
And THAT made me frown and feel like shit.
I walked away from the watches, with nothing but a huge knot in my throat.
No comments:
Post a Comment