It was family getaway weekend. We picked up Min’s sister and headed to Bellis Fair Mall in Bellingham, where my shopaholic daughter could bond with her auntie over the sales racks.
We do these trips once or twice a year, so I mentally prepare. Embrace it, I tell myself. Embrace the mall experience. And why not? I could use some clothes. Every time I have to leave the house for anything more formal than a pajama party, I have a wardrobe crisis.
But inevitably, this is what happens. I look at the first rack, then the second, then the third, and I think:
Who wears these clothes?
They don’t look like me.
What does look like me?
I have no idea.
Nothing looks like me.
I have no idea who I am!
Fortunately, JUST before I had to be checked into an asylum, I found myself.
Yes, this is the tiger that saved me from existential crisis. He was electric, and we motored around the mall together. Min came along, too, on a giant bear.
Also, I bought a hoodie. It is perfectly appropriate for a pajama party.