A worse rat race than going to work 

So I got to spend part of today shopping with my mother (well I didn’t so much get to as neither of my sisters wanted to deal with her and she doesn’t have a friend in the world).  We sat in traffic over an hour to get to the Roosevelt Fields mall, where I picked up three cute tops and she bought a mountain of stuff for my niece and nephew.  

Shopping with my mother takes me back to my childhood no matter how old I am, largely because my mother never changes.  No matter how much traffic there is and/or how long we’re at the mall, she won’t use the public restroom.  As far as she’s concerned, the public consists of everyone but her.  Me, I’ll pee in a public bathroom, even as she tells me stopping to pee is “a waste of time”.  Does she think the sale rack will run away?  

She also has no patience for other people in stores.  And there are other people in stores.  Taking too long (for her convenience) at the register, causing her to complain about the works being held up.  The sales girl never moves fast enough for her. 

In the end I was lucky to come home with my 3 cute tops and the satisfaction that I didn’t let her pick a fight with me.  I have tonight and all day tomorrow to recover from her.

10 thoughts on “A worse rat race than going to work 

  1. I don’t live anywhere near my parents nowadays, but when I was a child, the main thing I found difficult about shopping with my mother was that she always dragged my brother and I round the clothes departments, whereas all we cared about were (in order of preference) : a) toys, b) candy and c) books.

    Liked by 1 person

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