shopping rules

Mason,

Daddy already told you about one of his rules, but I have some, too.  And our recent shopping excursion prompted this post.

As long as we frequented baby stores, you were an angel. But as soon as we stepped foot into one store for me (Ann Taylor Loft), you awoke from your deep slumber and flew into a rage. After a few dirty looks from other shoppers and the store's employees, I wheeled you outside and you immediately stopped crying. I pushed you around for a few minutes, just to make sure you were calmed down, and entered the store again, which prompted another instant meltdown.

I'm not above bribery--Ann Taylor Loft was having a sale and I had Christmas money left over from last year, so I wasn't about to leave empty-handed. I took you outside, got you out of the stroller, sat on a bench, fed you, and implored you to please cooperate.

We then raced through the store at lightening speed, gathering clothes for me to try on. I knew that getting you to a dressing room would help, which it did. There, we had plenty of space and privacy, so I changed you, fed you, and let you play on a blanket while I tried on clothes. We probably spent at least 30 minutes in there--you loved the lights! But then you melted down as soon as we left the dressing room and screamed while I paid for my clothes. The sales clerk was so flustered that she didn't even remove my items from the hangers. I've never seen store employees so relieved by anyone's departure.

Now listen, Son. Your daddy used to act like this (figuratively, not literally). And it took me years of marriage to break his selfish shopping preferences. Let's nip this bad habit in the bud early, shall we? And one day, Lord willing, when your lady friend compliments you on how patient, enthusiastic, and gracious you are when shopping both with and for her, you can say with pride, "My mama taught me right."

I'm always looking out for you, Sweetie!

Love,

Mommy