April 22, 2006

Shopping with Mo and Bou

Yes, we went shopping today, much to the dismay of my boys who promptly said to Mo, “But Mom HATES shopping” and to which she replied, “Not if she is shopping with me or Mimi.” And she’s right. Shopping with your mom or sister is different, especially if they’re as funny as mine are. Shopping with my boys or my husband does NOTHING for me.

Today I was bent on finding a white button down shirt to go with some new jeans I recently purchased. I’m going to Austin next week and decided I’d like to not look like a complete slob when I meet everyone for dinner.

We stopped first at some store called, Express, which I think used to be called The Limited. I picked up a couple white shirts, one of them with gathering down the sides.

Me: I’m not sure about this one. It looks like it would be a real pain in the ass to iron.

Mo: Yes. You WILL have to iron ANY shirt you buy…

Me: Yeah, but I’m not sure about THIS one.

But I decided to pick it up anyway, just to give it a shot, and as I did, she found a bunch of short sleeved shirts with this gathering thing going on down the front sides.

Mo: Oh! Get one of these!

Me: I’m wearing it on the airplane. I can’t do sleeveless. I’ll freeze. Plus, I really hate that gathering stuff.

Mo: But they make your boobs look big.

Me: *Blink*

Mo: Really! They’ll look good in this shirt.

Me: I don’t want my boobs to look big. Besides, I’m not happy with how big they are anyway. I want them smaller.

Mo: Oh sure! You were JUST FINE with them before you knew you wore a 36C and now suddenly they’re too big and you wish they were smaller…

Me: That’s not true. I miss my 32Bs…

Mo: Which was…

Me: Before I had kids.

Mo: *Blink* Yeah. Too bad.

And these are the types of conversations that happen between sisters when they shop. In case you don’t have one. Or if you’re a guy.

In the dressing room we went, as I tugged on the shirts, tried to see if they’d pucker, complained the fabric was too thin, and what not.

Mo (as I undressed, while rolling her eyes): And you got this bra where?

Me: 4 years ago. VS. It was one of their first wireless bras.

Mo: Yuck. It does nothing for your boobs. You can’t wear it with that shirt.

Me: I’m really really not into how my boobs look…

Mo: Whatever. I hope you have a better bra…

Me: I do. I hate this shirt I think… It’s bunchy.

I’m undressing…

Mo: Look at your gall bladder scars! They’re different than mine! Yours… yours… why yours form a constellation!

Me: Oh yeah, I have Orion’s belt on my stomach.

Mo: Wow. And yours look like they just punched holes in your stomach with a hole puncher… mine are just little lines… and LOOK HOW BIG that scar is on your navel! Mine isn’t that big at all!

Yeah, well, she still has a navel. My surgeon didn’t have a whole helluva lot to work with, my having had three kids and all.

As we were leaving, she looked in the mirror (she’s been sick) and said, “Wow. I look like crap. I can’t believe I went out like this. Look at my hair and my face. I’m wearing no make up… I look really bad.”

I replied, “Oh.. but your boobs look GREAT in that bra!!!”. Heh. She said, “You’re right! I feel better already!”

I didn’t buy their shirt. We moved on to Ann Taylor Loft. But as we left the store, I found the cutest pair of jean shorts, very short, but very cute.

Me: OH! I like these! I could wear these… but not much longer can I?

Mo: No. Not much longer.

Me: How much longer do you think I have before I have to hang up wearing shorty shorts?

Mo: It depends…

Me: On my legs? (As I’m throwing a leg out to see if they’re wrinkling yet.)

Mo: No. We all inherited Nana’s legs. You’ll have great legs until you die. It’ll depend on your waist and that… (and she frames my face) When you look older, you can’t wear those shorts anymore.

I looked at them wistfully and finally said, “So how much time do I have?” as if I were asking a doctor about a terminal illness.

Mo: 10 years. I give you 10 years.

I will be going back to buy those shorts. I have 10 years left. I have to make the best of them…

Posted by Boudicca at April 22, 2006 10:52 PM | TrackBack

You two are a riot!

Posted by: Sissy at April 22, 2006 11:40 PM

Lerner NY. Their button down shirts do NOT need to be ironed. Trust me darlin'. I have 6 of them......

And just so you know - I had to give up the short shorts last year. Broke my friggin' heart.

Posted by: Tammi at April 23, 2006 12:58 AM

You are short enough to get away with it for a very long time. I'll bet 20 years.

Posted by: vw bug at April 23, 2006 05:16 AM

Hey this is Florida. You can wear whatever you wat to wear no matter how old you are. Hell, people expect it!

Posted by: GUYK at April 23, 2006 05:01 PM

I love to shop....just not for myself. I will go, with the best of intentions of picking out something new for myself, and come home with something for everyone BUT myself.
It's that mommy syndrome I think.

Go get those shorts! You deserve them...besides, as GuyK said- it IS Florida, after all.

Posted by: Rave at April 23, 2006 06:00 PM

You two need a Reality Show. It would be the only one of its kind I'd watch. Really.

Posted by: Jim - PRS at April 23, 2006 07:33 PM

... whoa!... Jim wants to watch Mo and Bou try on bras!.... just you wait until I call your girl, Jim... you be in trooooooble..... she and I are tight....

Posted by: Eric at April 23, 2006 08:01 PM

If you bought a new white shirt to starch before you go to Austin...you're missing the point. I'm just saying.

Been there...they care more about minds than how you look.

Now having said that...a white starched shirt might make them think you are surrendering, when you're not...and give you the time to break for cover, so, it might not be a bad idea!!!


Have a safe trip.

Posted by: Yabu at April 23, 2006 08:48 PM

I'm buying the shorts.

Jim- Morrigan is frickin' funny. There are too many times I've been crying this weekend, laughing at her.

Eric- We didn't try on bras!

Yabu- It won't be starched. Hell, it won't be ironed. I don't iron...

Posted by: Bou at April 23, 2006 08:54 PM

that is a good view, thanks for all!

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