What sort of mother forgets about stocking stuffers? THIS kind of mother. *points at self*
In fact, I forgot about a bunch of stuff, the net result of which is I will be running around tomorrow like a woman on fire. And that won't be easy to do, considering the fact that the traffic has tripled these past few days. I've spent an inordinate amount of time stuck in driver's limbo, dramatically running my hands through my hair and gnashing my teeth.
At this time I would like to communicate a cautionary retail tale, also known as (I just made this up) a "retale." I will probably never have cause to cross the threshold of a Sunglass Hut, but if I did it would never, ever be the one in my nearby mall. Do you want to know why? Because for years now, one of the store's full-length mirrors is positioned in such a way as to force passersby to catch a glimpse of themselves. In and of itself, that's not a bad thing. But if the mirror is cheap and warped in such a way as to make passersby look two feet shorter and two feet wider than they in fact ARE, the feeling engendered is not one of goodwill. You'd think by now I'd know to avert my eyes, but for some unknown, masochistic reason, I'm drawn to that mirror like every cliché moth to every cliché flame. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that if you ever become a shopkeeper, make sure your mirrors reflect the queen and/or king in all of us.
The End.
And also, happy holidays. Stay gold. Drink milk. Be nice.
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