I guess you can refer to me as the new catchy phrase that some of fashion focused talk radio shows are using......yes, I am a "recessionista". Fashionista turned Recessionista. This means that I still long for and dream about Chanel and Missoni, but I go to Old Navy instead of Neiman's. It's sad I know, but just like Diana said....."I will survive". I think Diana Ross sang that, but who really cares.
Don't get me wrong, I love Old Navy just like the rest of America, but I love Neiman's more! So as soon as I get in there, I smell something all too suspicious. The Pig is getting teeth at the moment, and one of the side effects of that is crankiness and the runs. He has the later, and I'm okay with that. As soon as we enter I wheel him straight to the back of the store....I am positive that Old Navy has a changing table...they sale baby clothes, so they better! And.....they did.
Just to set up the scene for you....I have on a long sleeve v neck shirt from Kohl's (recessionista strikes again), a fabulous Christian Lacroix rabbit fur vest, a winter white pashmina, some homeless chic long fingerless gloves from Barneys, and a great long one of a kind necklace also from Barneys. Jeans, and some chartreuse Borne boots on the lower half if you were wondering.
With all of that on, I have to practically disrobe when we get into the bathroom. Poop on the Christian Lacroix could make a grown girl cry, and he would be pawing at that pashmina and necklace like a rabid badger if it were dangling above him as I try to not get shit everywhere! Thus, I disrobe and get out everything that I will need. It was a bad one, but magically it did not get on his clothes, or mine....thank you Jesus! I loved the Pig for that.
With that, I was feeling extra happy as I walked through the piles of clothes and sales. I was shopping like any mother would...for myself, for the baby, for myself, for the baby, for my mother's dog, for the baby. Anyway, I was putting the "yeses" on the stroller as we went along. Keep in mind, I don't get out much these days, and my eyes were scanning that store like one of the special devices on CSI Miami. I was paying attention to everything else but the Pig. That is why I didn't notice that he was eating a price tag until I went up to a Sales Associate to ask if they had the green puffy jacket that was so 1980's in a 6-12 month size. I look down to see if the 12-18 months is really way too big, and see Pig happy as a lark eating one of the price tags!
I got that horrible "oh shit" feeling in the pit of my stomach. The price tag was missing the bottom half....you know, the perforated part that tells you how much the garment is. I was trying to think back to putting the shirt in the yes pile. Did it have the perforated part on it? If it did, was the the gross orange sale sticker stuck to it as well? Had he eaten the perforated part and the little orange sticker? Oh Shit! What was a supposed to do? I asked him if he swallowed it, and he just smiled at me and laughed. I then took my dirty shopping finger and swabbed his throat for anything suspicious. Nothing, no evidence at all. I still had a bad feeling that he swallowed it, so I called my sister in law. She's a physician.....I left her a stupid message and asked her if I should be concerned. I tried not to sound too alarmed, or too much like a horrible selfish mother who doesn't pay attention to her kids!
So, we checked out, and he started to gag a little, eyes watered, face turned red, and then stopped and went back to smiling. I decided to sit on the bench by the door to let this play out before we got in the car. I was hoping a doctor would be shopping at that moment and randomly strike up a conversation with me about my cute price tag eating baby. No luck. No shopping doctor. So, I burp him, I look at him, I jostle him, and then I saw it! He was arched back and looking at the store upside down, something that he loves to do, and in the roof of his mouth I saw it! A huge OLD NAVY price tag! It took up the entire roof of his little baby mouth! I reached in there like a Uma Thurman in Kill Bill. I grabbed that price tag so fast...he didn't even know what hit him! Thank God!
So, long story short: I shopped, I didn't pay attention, and the damn baby ate a price tag, then barfed it back up. What a day!
1 comment:
Okay, that should not have made me laugh but I laughed until I chocked on what may have been my own price tag. Thanks always for the many smiles you provide me on a day to day basis. Keep the Pig stories comin. I love that little man!
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