Mother and Dad arrived Saturday from Arizona. It's been a nice visit. Dad and I had a beautiful mountain bike ride, we all walked to Snoasis for shaved ice [where we waited in line with the other
addicts patrons], and Mother and I were able to have a mother-daughter shopping day.
Mom is the best shopping companion I've ever had. I mean that sincerely. We appreciate each other's taste and can give honest, meaningful feedback on potential purchases, yet we're comfortable parting ways to investigate individual interests, always returning to a predetermined rendezvous site.
We both love a leisurely lunch with good food and wine, or on occasion, recognize it's best to quickly consume a giant cookie and a Coke so we can hit all the targeted stores before day's end. She makes me laugh when she sees the gals with their thong underwear showing above their ultra-low-rise jeans, her eyebrows raised as she whispers, "I see London, I see France..."
Yesterday we shopped. As I was in the shower preparing myself for shopping day, Mom poked her head in, "What are you wearing?" We always quasi-coordinate. "Something cute," I said.
I decided to wear jeans, and a black cami with a short-sleeved, black sweater. I also decided to wear some Steve Madden, high heel shoes that I've never worn. They're a tad out of my league and comfort zone, but very fun. Mom says, "Are you really wearing those shoes." I said, "Yes, why?" "Honey, you're gonna kill yourself. You better bring a second pair incase your feet hurt." I thought about it and decided I'd throw an extra pair of shoes in the back seat of the car. But, I'd probably be fine.
We hit a small country called IKEA first. My feet didn't hurt, but I noticed I was fiddling with my shoes occasionally. Not cool, but I was proud of the discreet way I handled it. I was lookin' good in my high heels. We drove to a few more stores, paced and positioned so that I could walk short distances, and recover in the car as we traveled to the next location. I was managing, but fading.
Within one specific moment, in Restoration Hardware, fiddling and irritation became intense pain on the balls of my feet, and my lower back spasmed a bit. It was time to change into the 2nd string shoes, which were still cute but a bit orthopedic looking. Had I not had the 2nd string shoes, I would have purchased ANY shoe at ANY price... or gone home.
Mom: "How do your feet feel? You're walking with a perceptible limp."
Me: "Terrible. You were right. I'll be back in a minute."
Mom and I decided it was a leisurely lunch, shopping day and she was giving me the "I told you so..." speech. I said, "Mom, I was just trying to be like all the other girls." Mom said, "I know Dear. I try too, and it never quite works. Have a Mojito. You'll feel better."
So I did. And I do.