Inheritance
Jan. 21st, 2012 05:04 am![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
karenhealeyInternets, let's talk about shopping. Specifically, let's talk about shopping with my mum!
Me: Mum, can you drop me off in town? I need to post my first pass pages to Little, Brown.
*Eighty-seven dollars later, jeezum crow, it's not like I was sending gold bars*
Me: Hey, you're still here!
Mum: Yes. You have that inheritance from your grandfather. I thought we could look at shoes.
But before shoes, we looked at clothes. This is an activity I either love or hate doing with my mother. Sometimes I love it, because she tends to push me out of familiar territory, she's good at spotting bargains, and as a sewing maven of many years, she has an excellent eye for cut.
Also, if I can't afford something she really likes, she may just buy it for me, for the pleasure of seeing it on me.
Sometimes I loathe it, because she'll get on a kick about how I have gained SO much weight, and if I just LOST some weight, I would fit this great dress and augh, Ma, come on. If that great dress doesn't fit me, I will wear something else! It's okay! The world won't stop turning! No one will catch plague from my visible back fat!
But today I loved it. No weight talk! We both found a couple of great things, and then! THEN, internets! We looked at shoes.
Mum: Oh, these are nice!
Me: Yes. You are wearing them.
Mum: These are green. Mine are yellow. Go on, try them on.
I did. They were perfect. I brought them home with me, where I intend to love them forever, or at least until they fall apart.
Later our internet went wonky, so I impersonated my mother on the phone to sort it out.
We're really not the same person in many fundamental ways. But I could do worse. I could do a lot worse.
Me: Mum, can you drop me off in town? I need to post my first pass pages to Little, Brown.
*Eighty-seven dollars later, jeezum crow, it's not like I was sending gold bars*
Me: Hey, you're still here!
Mum: Yes. You have that inheritance from your grandfather. I thought we could look at shoes.
But before shoes, we looked at clothes. This is an activity I either love or hate doing with my mother. Sometimes I love it, because she tends to push me out of familiar territory, she's good at spotting bargains, and as a sewing maven of many years, she has an excellent eye for cut.
Also, if I can't afford something she really likes, she may just buy it for me, for the pleasure of seeing it on me.
Sometimes I loathe it, because she'll get on a kick about how I have gained SO much weight, and if I just LOST some weight, I would fit this great dress and augh, Ma, come on. If that great dress doesn't fit me, I will wear something else! It's okay! The world won't stop turning! No one will catch plague from my visible back fat!
But today I loved it. No weight talk! We both found a couple of great things, and then! THEN, internets! We looked at shoes.
Mum: Oh, these are nice!
Me: Yes. You are wearing them.
Mum: These are green. Mine are yellow. Go on, try them on.
I did. They were perfect. I brought them home with me, where I intend to love them forever, or at least until they fall apart.
Later our internet went wonky, so I impersonated my mother on the phone to sort it out.
We're really not the same person in many fundamental ways. But I could do worse. I could do a lot worse.
