One of my clients recently told me that when his wife and two daughters go shopping, they never come home with just the items they set out to find. In fact, usually the items that prompted the shopping trip are nowhere to be found in the bags that make it home.
Men see women head out to buy a pair of shoes, but instead come home with two pairs of jeans; they then assume that we’ve got no willpower and no ability to stick to the agenda. Men, this is not our fault. We do have willpower and, sure, we’re satisfied when we can cross every item off of our list. But something happens in the universe when a woman has something specific in mind. All of those specific somethings get sucked into a black hole and shot out into outer space. We’re left wandering around, helpless and at the mercy of the BoGo sales. Any woman can tell you that the fastest way to kill a successful shopping trip is to have something specific in mind. Never, I repeat, never go to the department store knowing exactly what you want. It doesn’t exist.
As I mentioned in my post I’m Waiting For the Stork, the Halloween theme at the salon this year is for us all to dress as if we’re pregnant. Wonderful.
Now, apparently, there’s more. My boss does not want to be a stork. No, she wants to be a pregnant witch. Another girl is going to be a pregnant man. For all I know there could be pregnant hippos, pregnant princesses and pregnant Power Rangers.
But I thought being pregnant WAS the costuuuuuuume! *whine*
So on our way home from my mom’s today, I had Brian google redheaded characters on his phone. I needed inspiration for a Halloween character… and then to make that character pregnant.
We ran through the gamut.
Poison Ivy? Too sexy.
Pippi Longstocking? Isn’t she a child?
Raggedy Anne? That could be cute.
Wilma Flintstone? Doable.
Lindsay Lohan? She’s blonde now, right?
Then my husband had a BRILLIANT idea.
Ronald McDonald’s wife! Ah ha!
So I took a long, hard look at Mr. McDonald. Red boots. Check. I could always use another pair of red shoes. Red and white tights. Check. I just had a client mention that striped tights were at Five Below. Yellow attire. Sure, check. I could get a yellow dress. Clown makeup. Check.
After spending a couple hours shopping, I am now convinced that there’s no such thing as red boots, yellow dresses and red and white tights. Nope. They simply do not exist. Now, if I was looking for, say, a purple dress, well then I think I could probably find a yellow one. Or if I was looking for blue flip flops, I’d probably stumble across at least three pairs of red boots.
But I did find a $6.00 backup, denim dress just in case I need to be a pregnant cowgirl.
But if I can’t find cowgirl boots, I found a backup shirt just in case I need to be a pregnant, um, jack-o-lantern.
And to make myself feel better about how much I hate shopping, naturally I purchased some sparkley, Christmas thingamabobs.
And now that I’m home and almost ready for bed, I’m sure that all the yellow dresses are being beamed to Northern Virginia back from outer space.