In theory shopping with your parents is a rather attractive prospect. You've got two adults who are genetically inclined to love you and fulfil your every wish, desire and command. They are genies trapped in your bottle of wavering affections. I don't know what it is about youth that makes the line between adoration and deadly hatred so blurry but I find myself dangling between the two extremes where my parents are concerned.
Did you catch the blurred lines reference in there? You didn't? Well you've got it now.
Furthermore, when you're a young graduate saddled with overdrafts, credit card payments, and student loan repayments, your parents are almost always guaranteed to have more cash on the side than you. When you add these things to the fact that all parents have a little bit of a prince/princess fetish (i.e Let's dress ________ up like a prince/princess and admire the unbelievable combination of our genes) you've struck theoretical gold. However, the moment you consider the fact that their idea of princely or princessly was manufactured somewhere in the depths of hell (probably right next to where Satan sleeps) you'll realise that your studenty theoretical ideals do not apply in the real world.
Take my parents for instance. They are perfectly good parents I think, but they've got this idea that I am bigger than I am. I'm not talking about the, "Oh! I'm so sorry i got you a medium instead of a small" kind of big, I'm talking about the, "Holy Shit! The clothes you bought me when I was ten still don't fit me, and I'm 23! You should have saved that cash" kind of big.
The other day, they took me out for a shop and we ended up in the Gap. How we ended up in the Gap I do not know. I don't mind the Gap particularly. It's just that, if I, Afam the broke can afford to shop in the Gap, then why should my Parents, Mama and Papa Afam, the relatively minted shop for me in the Gap? My logic was lost on them.
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Look at this! I would understand if they bought it for me while I was in the hospital with cholera (because people with cholera generally tend to lose a lot of weight), but they had me put it on right in front of them and they still thought it suitable for my stylish self.
I couldn't deal then and I'm not dealing very well now. There's a party. It's happening in my pants. You must bring your friends, there's more than enough food for everybody. I need two guns, one for the left cheek and another for the right. That's the only way these trousers make sense. I guess I need a tailor and if this keeps up I'll need a tailor till the end of my life!
Lesson?
Don't go shopping with your parents.
Happy Days,
Afam
1 comment:
I maintain that you are just trying to oppress some of us. smh
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