Hanna and I made a rare trip to the mall together.
It’s not that I’m opposed to taking my kids to the mall it’s that I’m opposed to the mall.
My eyebrows were long overdue for a perm (sorry, permanent) so I decided to bring one of the kids along for the ride and since Ellie had already coughed a productive Batman three times into her sleeve and Chloe is well, Chloe, I asked Hanna if she wanted to come along and watch her Mother cry.
She was surprisingly eager after her first question about mother-daughter bonding “Can I play on my ipod in the van?” was answered with a yes.
Hanna asked if we could go into that store, “you know, the store we went into one time right after I had my very first Booster Juice and I thought I was going to throw up so I had to lean on the mannequin until you gave me a piggy back to the car?” Ah memories.
H & M it is.
We walked past several displays of leopard print, skinny jeans and Hanna pointed out that I really should get with the times and mix up my wardrobe to reflect the current trends.
I really don’t see a need. I was perfectly comfortable in my Far West ski jacket, Aviator glasses, acid washed jeans and Tree Torns. No?
I heard her squeak a few hangers around a metal rack and then dead silence. I looked up from trying on a child sized winter hat (no judgement, it was on clearance) to see my daughter flush with excitement over of all things a black, faux-leather bomber jacket with a black faux-fur collar.
Oh dear.
Hanna: Mom, I need this.
Me: Oh Hanna. Where do I begin? For starters, it’s a size 14-16.
Hanna: Yeah?
Me: You are a size 8-10 on a three helping bowl of spaghetti day at best.
Hanna: Mom, I need this.
Me: This jacket isn’t really meant for nine year olds, it’s for teenagers with motorcycles and rebellious boyfriends named Dirk.
Hanna: I don’t know what you’re talking about.
She threw her perfectly acceptable Old Navy winter coat on the floor and immediately ran to find a mirror.
She put on this ridiculous jacket and could not stop giggling and smiling.
Hanna: Mom, I need this.
This would have been the right time to ask something like, “More than your ipod?” but it’s just occurring to me that I should have said that as I type this.
Me: It’s a spring jacket. It’s too big. It’s too old for you.
Hanna: It’s rockin’
Me: It is rockin’
There was NO way I was buying this jacket. It would catapult her into a world of danger, bad decisions, goth make-up, lying to us, sneaking around, coming home late, quitting a job because she didn’t think they had enough breaks.
I had to be firm and give her a flat-out “No” and move on. She would be mad for an undetermined amount of time and then she would get over it.
Except then I saw the price.
Marked down from $59 to $10 on clearance.
Sold!
I take back everything I said. Who wouldn’t want to be a hero for ten bucks?
I asked the sales girl at the check-out, “Do you think this jacket is a little old for a nine year old?”
Sales Girl: No, I think she could totally rock it.
My thoughts exactly.
