Wish all jobs were this easy
I went clothes shopping with my son today. It took a great deal of suggesting and hinting to get him out the door, but the need was pressing… how many hours a day can one wear pyjamas without going to bed?
The trip was mercifully brief, given the heat and humidity and the aural discomfort of air conditioner fans set to one notch past full throttle. We knew what we wanted (shorts), we knew where we wanted to go (Mark’s Work Warehouse) and we knew we had the money in the bank account.
Funny thing, but some sizes are just not sold in some stores. Out of all the racks of clothes, I found less than three pairs of shorts that offered a waist of either 31″ or 32″. NO PROBLEM to find bigger sizes…
The materials passed the touch test, and the change room was available. My role came down to doing the debit card trick to get us past the cash register. I did not have to offer opinion, or advice on colours, or consult wash instructions. In short, I wish all jobs were this easy.
We were home again before the dog even was sure we were gone, although I still think her memory is set to fifteen minute looping. Do dogs really know who we are, or just treat everybody as a possible source of the odd snack?
