Why our Children Won't be Going to College

Today April and I got together to spend our money. Well, that wasn't the plan per se, but that's what it amounts to when you arrange to visit an outlet mall. The trip was the brain child of a quasi-friend of April's who's married to one of Alex's friends, and we waited two hours for this person before saying "screw her" (this may have been more on my end) and going to get a fancy lunch. The fancy lunch took 90 minutes itself, so we weren't actually on the road till 3:00, which was the optimal time to get out of town because it was 104 degrees. I begged April, "Don't let me spend money. I need a wallet and a strapless bra, that's it. But if I do buy stuff, it can't be anything slutty." I had the best intentions. I even planned to get stuff for Michael, cause that would make me feel better about the money. But you can see where this is going. My mom and her friend Antoinette (real name) once went on an extended bargain-shopping spree, during which they repeatedly assured each other, "We're saving a fortune." At the end of the day Antoinette sighed, "I don't think we can afford to save any more money."

In retrospect, it's a pity we didn't hit Banana Republic first. I assumed they would be too expensive, but they had some kind of crazy fire sale going on--I got a $100 jackeet for eleven bucks, I'm dead serious. But no, we decided to be disciplined and went to Ann Taylor to look for work/school clothes and both wound up saving our own personal fortunes. We also lost each other for twenty minutes, forcing April to stand in the door of the fitting room calling "Anna?" This elicited a timid "Yays?" from the elderly occupant of an adjoining stall; I was up by the register at that moment, looking for April. After a quick stop for Sobe we decided to give Banana a quick look, expecting it to be outside our already stretched budgets and generally off-putting. We quickly realized our miscalculation, and saved another fortune each before losing each other again. This time I stood in the fitting room calling "April?" but I got no response. I gave up on her and went to the nearby Maidenform on the deranged logic that my spending would be justified if I actually came away with one of the items on my original shopping list. I failed in that mission, however, because as I explained to April's amazement, most lingerie companies do not make D-cup bras that differ substantially from back braces. The detour proved a good strategy, though, because April found me, and this time we made a plan. "If we get separated again, meet me by the thongs," I cautioned her as I went to try on a strapless contraption that looked like it went with matching compression stockings.

In the time it took me to establish that the granny bra gave me bullet boobs, April had gone back to Banana to purchase a second pair of 8-dollar pants. I went to find her and wound up buying myself another pair of pants, too. They fit like a glove at 50% off, what was I supposed to do? As I slunk up to the register for the second time, the cashier offered me a Banana Republic credit card. "It's obvious I have a problem," I snapped, "Let's not make it any worse." We nipped into Calvin Klein to get Alex his one shirt (I had gotten Mike one shirt too, and not from Calvin Klein), and headed home, exhausted. "Will you be modeling your new clothes for Michael?" April asked. "Hell no," I answered, "I'm just going to tell him I bought a lot of slutty skirts."