A Two-Year-Old Walks into a Bar

When I think of Mom, I think of shopping, and when I think of shopping, I think of Mom. They go hand in hand and remained faithful until her late eighties when her last credit card was snatched from her mighty grip. My earliest memory involved them both. At two years old, I tagged along on my first bargain hunting adventure. Her left hand held mine as her right rummaged through clothes racks at a feverish pace. I did my best to keep up, did my best to focus, but it didn’t take long for me to tire and desire to retire from this “shopping thing.” My sore back and aching feet along with my hunger to explore the unfamiliar world in my midst took over. And a momentary motherly lapse presented the perfect opportunity for me to slip free.