If you thought you’d never hear of a female whose mother was desperate because she wouldn’t go shopping, well, now you have.
I HATE shopping.
My mum’s near tears because I wouldn’t go shopping. In fact, she said she’ll get my wedding dress myself which made me realize I’ve given the world too much space. When I acted very shocked at the suggestion, she looked shocked that I was shocked. She thought I’d be okay with the idea, the situation’s that bad. Not to mention when I went shopping with the In-Laws, I made some major blunders like … well…
MIL and Mum *whisper *whisper *point *point* while I trail behind running my hand over cloth trying to see if touch can make me more cloth savvy when…
Mum: Oh Specs, check this. It’s so pretty.
Me: For the sofas?
If she wouldn’t keep on pointing random things out as ‘pretty’ I would’ve known it was stuff women wear and not sofa cloth. And that ruddy Saleem Fabrics in Lahore is such a hotch potch of a four storied cloth store. How is a girl to know!
My mum lifted up the shawl and looked at me.
MIL looks at me.
I reluctantly look at the cloth.
‘You want it Specs?’ asks my mum.
‘Yes. If I want to look like a walking talking masjid,‘ I say.
*cue arm pinch* OW!!
I mean the thing had those arches on it, okay? And a dome-like design. All it was missing was a fountain and you’d have it all. Give me a break!
So yesterday when I went to this hoity toity store, I actually liked some stuff that my mum wrinkled her nose at. I thought I’d not buy that because she was shouldering the bill but since I would have to come again if I didn’t buy it all this time, I went ahead and bought everything that tickled my fancy (read: looked wearable). I literally shopped till I dropped, although that had more to do with my uncomfortable shoes than anything else. But you get the gist.
The bill was so huge it made my jaw drop. It pained my economist miser soul to the core but hey, what had to be done was done. Yay!
‘We’re done with shopping for the wedding,’ I tell my dad. I even bought myself a pack of frozen pepperoni to eat because I was so happy and that’s my ‘happy’ food (go ahead, puke, I don’t care).
‘Yes,’ sighs my Mum, ‘I’m glad she’s done with one part.’
‘What?’ I freeze.
‘Now we only need the formal ones and the every-day wear. We got a few semi formals though you’ll need more.’
‘Those things have sequins on them,’ I point in horror, ‘and its silk. What is more formal than that?!?!?!’
I get the look and my mum turns to my Dad: ‘Seriously, if it were up to your daughter, she’d get married in jeans.’
‘That’s what his mum said about him,’ I smirk, ‘I think we should get…’
My mum looks at me with steam coming out her nostrils.
So I decided to be wise and let it go. I don’t want to be murdered. I mean I’m not even married yet.