I am not one to wallow in self-pity.
Although I will continue to carry a kleenex with me in case an unexpected flood of tears rushes in, I am moving on.
Chicky is at college.
Chicky is having a wonderful time, as evidenced by her Facebook pictures.
What happened to cause this turnaround in my attitude?
A little store called Kohl’s.
Oh, you remember this store, don’t you? I’ve blogged about it a time or two.
But, if you’ll recall…I am also a teacher (gee, that feels so good to be able to say that).
Teachers do not make the big bucks.
Especially when they work for very small, private schools.
BUT, if teachers have generous Grand Poobas who hand out a little bit of $$ when said teachers are taking their oldest and dearest to college far, far away…
Well, one might have a little something something to go shopping with.
And so I went.
The Mr. had Kohl’s cash that was burning a hole in his pocket, so we took Rooster and headed out.
I, of course, immediately made a beeline for the shoe department…
Where I did not emerge for almost an hour.
Oh
My
Gosh.
The summer shoes are on clearance.
Folks, you might recall that I live in FLORIDA – where it stays hot 80% of the year.
It’s always summer footwear time around here.
Now, when one should always have a method for bargain shopping. This was the method I employed when hunting for shoes:
If the box said 8M and had a clearance sticker, I opened it.
Hey, you never know what something looks like until you try it on.
Especially when said something is marked down to $10-$20 dollars.
I did, of course, find a pair I liked.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, the Mr. and Rooster were already at the cash register. They, like typical guys, had finished their shopping quickly.
Rooster called me on my phone.
“Mama, where are you?”
“I’m in the shoes,” I said.
And yes, I meant that quite literally.
“No you’re not. I looked for you on every aisle,” he continued.
“Um, yes, I’m here right now. I’m squatting so as to better see the boxes on the bottom shelves. Come find me if you can,” I replied in something a tone that sounded a bit like a dare.
heehee
He appeared much sooner than I would have liked and wearily sat down.
I have a bad reputation for shoe shopping. Especially in stores where you can actually try on stuff without asking for assistance.
Heck. I’ll even try on the itsy bitsy size 6 shoes the high-fa-looting stores set out on display.
I look like Cinderella’s step-sisters trying on the glass slipper…trying to stuff their big ugly feet into something way, way dainty.
Anyhoo…when I finally emerged from the shelving, Rooster had the audacity to say, “Mama, you don’t need more shoes. You have plenty.”
Hello?
Please tell me I did not hear him say that.
At that exact moment, a friend I had run into earlier happened to walk by.
“Excuse me, dear woman friend of mine. What do you tell a male child who thinks that his mama has enough shoes?”
She looked at the shoes and then at me and asked, “Do you really need them? What will you wear them with?”
Great.
I picked a practical person to ask.
Seriously? How unlucky can I get?
I proceeded to tell her that the shoes were marked down from $49.99 to $18.97, and I even had a 15% coupon to add on top of that.
“Well, in that case, you HAVE to get the shoes. Who cares about being practical,” she said.
That’s my girl.
I turned and threw a smug look in the Mr. and Rooster’s direction.
They looked away.
Well, they finally shamed me into not getting the shoes. I waited outside until they paid for their stuff.
We went home for a while before the Mr. left to take Rooster to the youth group at church.
My thoughts were on those shoes…those sparkly-gem strewn shoes.
As soon as I heard the car pull out from the driveway, I hightailed it out of there, coupon in hand.
I had devised a plan.
I had the money Grand Pooba had given me. It was burning a hole in my pocket. This was the last day to use the coupon, and because I haven’t been couponing much lately, I figured I had to get back on track. What better way to inspire myself than with buying my pair of shoes?
All you females out there…you understand, right?
So, I headed out.
I did make sure I checked out the store’s other sales. I even tried on a few things.
But, my mind had already been made up.
I wanted the shoes.
I tried them on again.
I walked over to a full-length mirror.
The shoes fit perfectly.
That’s when my phone rang. It was the Mr.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Buying the shoes…spending the money Grand Pooba gave me,” I said.
“Ok.”
Twenty years of marriage will do that to a person. If one is persistent enough to go back and get something, you don’t say a word.
It’s called survival.
And so I floated out of the store, shoebox in hand and the blues at bay.
I’ll be hunting something in my closet to pair with my oh-so-cute shoes.
What do you think of them?
Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: kohl's, shoe shopping | 3 Comments »
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