The reason for our trip to Raleigh was to be there for my only niece’s First Communion.
My boys have all been through this, but the prospect of little girl hair and a beautiful dress and, well, just the prettiness combined with the fact that my dad was willing to drive made the prospect too tempting to turn down. We were NOT disappointed! My sister’s whole family is magazine purty with my niece being their crown jewel.
When we arrived, I saw “the” dress and we talked hair while I sat on the bedroom floor and wallowed in Barbie heaven – so many wee shoes, so little time! We had the boys covered. Boys are so easy on big occasions! Look how blonde and cute they are! Andy, Jamie and Mitchell.
And, then, my sister came clean. She had NOTHING to wear to the church. NOTHING. This was not good. I come from a long line of shopping-averse people. Lynne was our shining example of genes overcoming tendencies! If we really need something, we call Lynne and she tells me where to go and where to get coupons. She’s the only shopper in our whole family.
But, I did not panic. After all, the wine would be there when we came home, right? Lynne and I made a plan. After dinner on Friday, we would shop. I put on my pseudo-best Stacey/Clinton hat and we went shopping. I lectured about bras that fit, wearing the size that fits and ignoring the number and even spending more if something fit. (Yes, I am a hypocrite on every level here – I know these all to be true, buh . . . . .)
I loaded my sister up with stuff to try on. Oh my. The first few things I gave her would have put most people in a fetal position under their beds. I was trying to be bold and trendy. Ummm … I know nothing about bold or trendy and my poor sister paid the price. Sorry, Lynne. Let’s just say polka dots are not her color. We were laughing AND crying at the same time; they were that bad. Finally, we found a blouse that was perfect with a cute white skirt. Unfortunately, there were no blouses on the rack and no sales associates to be found. I checked the size on the mannequin and sure enough, it was my sister’s size. To her horror, I started taking the blouse off of the mannequin – ready to substitute one of the same size and price, just a different pattern from the rack.
Who knew? Mannequin arms pop right off and crash really loudly. Good thing my sister and I laugh even more loudly. I kept looking up at the security cameras and waiting for mall police to escort us out of the store, but they never came. It even got worse when the same thing happened with the skirt on the display! After many experiments (some nearly disastrous), we discovered that skirts come off OVER the mannequin’s neck/head. Who knew? I’m actually calmed by this knowledge. I will no longer worry about being trapped in a mall and the mannequins coming to life. I now know their evil secrets.
If nothing else, I can rule out window-dresser/display person as a future job – I am no Rhoda Morgenstern. My sister and I got a chance to laugh and carry on, we were not tossed out of the store and I narrowed down my mid-life job choices all in under an hour! (And, for the record, I did mostly redress the mannequin. I couldn’t find any bottoms so I hung another blouse from the same line of clothing to cover any mannequin naughty bits. And, if I do say so myself, it looked just fine. Festive, even.)
As you can see from the pictures, my sister looked great! Paisley fitted blouse, white short (not mini) skirt, funky red shoes. I think Stacey and Clinton would be proud of us. Of course, when we got home to Lynne’s, her husband, my dad, the three boys and Jesse, who was busy with her tiara, did not find the humor. :::sigh:::: What do they know? My only regret is that our mom wasn’t there. Bing would have been howling with us.
And, ultimately, Jesse’s First Communion was a special, memorable, beautiful event. I am so happy that Andy and I were there to witness it.