Shopping with Mama

Mom is a very beautiful lady whom I adore, not just because she is my mom. But the woman is so sweet and kind, maybe too kind in some cases, but one of those few things that really drive me crazy is going shopping with her. Seriously, it is one of those experiences I try my best to avoid.

For me, shopping is more of a mission than a spree. When I need something, I decide on the places where I can get it, make the quick visit, spot the target (the stuff I want), try it on if necessary, pay for it and go home. Roaming around malls, staring at window screens and checking out goods just for joy or curiosity are a big faux pas for me. It is not that I am too busy to do so, but I find what most girls do when they go shopping is very tiring and a waste of time indeed. Like when I go out with some of my friends to help them find something, I end up feeling dizzy with feet killing me as if I have been in a crazy marathon.

Today was the weekend with no work to do and feeling too lazy to do any chores, so why not go out? Mall seems like the only option, as we always need stuff (Mom and I). So we headed toward it right away, while I was not very enthusiastic about it as I know exactly what is awaiting me. No lists of course, nothing specifically we have on mind, all we got was the intention of buying something. What was it? I had no idea.

Once we got there, the mall was okay not too crowded as usual, which was very encouraging to finish our "mission" before all of those zillions of people march in as they do every weekend as if the mall is the new zoo. I believe that mom was not on the same page. She was wearing high heels, which is a good excuse for the slow pace. And there was sale too. Yea, it wasn't my day, I know. Shopping with mom is very much like going to Disney Land with a child. Everything looks nice, colorful and flashy. She would look at every window screen, check out all of the stuff in every store, tell me to try something on, ask for prices and buy NOTHING. She does not want to buy anything. That is when I lose it, saying "Why did we even come here if you don't need anything?" Then I would feel guilty right away with her innocent eyes looking at me blankly making me feel that I am a bitch of some sort.

This is the usual scenario with her being herself and behaving like a normal woman (I guess my lack of passion for shopping insults my femininity after all, just kidding) and me behaving as if I am going to miss a flight. Maybe she was like me when she was my age. Maybe it has to do with growing old and believing that rush is useless. Maybe it has to do with her desire to enjoy every single second of life even the most trivial details of it.

Mom, whatever you do... I still love you.