Shop Til' Mom Drops

There was a time I used to love to go clothes shopping for my kids. I loved it when growth and splattered food stains were the cause for purchasing brand new outfits, not the rapidly approaching new school year.  Happily I would walk around stores choosing adorable coordinating outfits for my children. No, they are not twins, they are two years apart and in fact they are not even the same gender. I just thought they looked “cute” matched that way. Eventually my children came to realize my outfitting strategy and they put an end to it, despite my pleas that it was “cute and fun.” This would certainly not be the last “umm, no” I would hear shopping with my children, it was a sign of things to come.

Getting my son to go clothes shopping now is an exhausting experience.

“Do I have to go?”

“Yes."

“Can we go to Game Stop?”

“No.”

“Then why do I have to go?”

“Because I don’t know what size you are.” 

“How long will it take?”

“Sometime until mommy’s wallet or head explodes. Whichever happens first.”

My son’s opinions on fashion fall into three categories: “I don’t know,” “I don’t care,” and “Why must everything match?” I will give him this, once he does decide what he likes you can be sure it will be on the upper retail scale.  If given two choices he will always choose the more expensive.   “Why don’t you like this one?” I generally plead trying to make a case for the less expensive item. “It’s not as nice.”  Simple and impressive for a boy who at home wears pajamas two sizes too small, that he claims are just “fine.” Truthfully, I could shop all day with my son to avoid what is coming next. It is not for amateurs.

It is time to focus on my 13 year old daughter. She has a plan. She has considered this moment and already knows the stores she wants to go into, the number of jeans she wants, the number of tops she wants, what new pairs of sneakers she wants (pairs?), the outfit for the first day she needs, the outfit for picture day…she has it all planned with the minor exception of payment.  This actually never enters into her calculations. That is of course the only area I am allowed to actively contribute. I am given simple tasks by my daughter while we shop “find this in a small”  and feel slightly proud at this tool she uses to keep me out of her way, knowing I have myself delegated my children “tasks” to keep them occupied and not under my feet. Watching as she flips through racks aghast mumbling “ridiculous” at the cost of barely there shorts she would purchase over my dead body, I can’t help smile at her maturity…  at least until she hands me a Spiderman sweatshirt and an Ironman comic tee.   I am almost certain I have purchased these same things for my son when he was starting pre-school.

Five stores, and as many bags, later we are set to leave the mall. Somewhere along the way it is discovered my son’s lone bag of school clothes has been left in a dressing room.  Thankfully, there is not a huge market at Forever 21 for 11 year old boy’s jeans. Don’t ask. The recovered bag in hand we can head home with both my blood pressure and credit card debt elevated. I feel satisfied my kids will be set, clothes wise at least, until the holidays.  Before leaving the mall I make one more stop and pick up a sewing kit. My pants back from 2007 aren’t going to mend themselves.