Retail Therapy

I used to love doing back to school shopping.  There was something magical and therapeutic about watching the boys eagerly pick out a new shirt, pants and shoes for their first day of school.  They would practically dance with anticipation as we waited at the register to pay for the prized items.  Their excitement would build each day leading up to the first day of school as they eyed the new clothes in their closets.  

But that all changed this year.  

This year, there are uniforms.  Boring white polo shirts and blue slacks and worst off all, two pairs of nondescript black shoes for each boy.  The excitement of picking out school clothes died before we even reached the store.

In the first store, Benjy chased Jacob around the shoes screaming, "Give me back my money!"  We made a quick exit after retrieving a mixture of pennies and pesos from the floor.

In the second store Andrew screamed from the stroller and Benjy said his tummy hurt. I found Jacob shoes but none for Benjy which defeated the purpose of the Buy One Get One 50% off sale that all the stores were marketing.  Why can't they just mark all the shoes 25% off?

In the third store, Benjy had to pee, and I found the same BOGO problem.

In the fourth store, Benjy said his ear hurt, and in the fifth store, it was his legs.

In the sixth store, I struck gold.  Four pairs of boring black shoes, two dress, two gym-- one of each for each boy.  All this while Jacob laid in the floor and Benjy added aching feet to his list of ailments.  Andrew, thank God, fell asleep.

In the seventh store, we rode the escalators happily to the second floor to find navy blue socks.  Then we rode them unhappily down empty handed while Benjy screamed that he didn't like escalators.  Everyone stopped their shopping to witness the child abuse.

I'm done with retail therapy. I'll order the rest online and get my therapy somewhere else.