The struggle is real

A certain slender teenager made her way downstairs before church yesterday morning, and the first thing I noticed was that she was in a navy blue sweatshirt instead of one of her multitudes of black ones. So I did what any mother would do. 

I "ooooooooooh"ed.

She rolled her eyes and smirkily (bwhaha, brand new word on a Monday. Ooh yeah!) muttered, "Idontwanttotalkaboutit" which is straight out of "The Gods Must Be Crazy". If you've never seen it, go track it down at your library and settle in for some giggles. 

She then sighed and confessed, "I didn't put my laundry in the dryer last night so my jeans are still wet and these are the only ones that come remotely close to fitting." 

I look down and lo, and behold, she's in her "Saturday jeans" which are the ones I've deemed to thin in the rear to be acceptable in public. This child wears jeans into oblivion. The same pair as often as she can get away with it, over various pairs of leggings (because it's cold in Ohio for like six months) until they absolutely must be washed. Once out of the dryer, they're back on her bod until the cycle needs repeated.

These ones are short and thin. I could see the tie dyed leggings poking out at her ankles. 

I smiled, and again heard, "Idontwanttotalkaboutit".

"I need some jeans."

I should explain. This child hates shopping. Actually despises shopping. For her to initiate a shopping trip means we're at Situation Critical.

So off we (she and her Grandmama and I) go to Walmart, her choice, where she tries on seven or eight pairs of jeans, texting me as she goes, with pictures, of what's too big, too short, too tight, too huge, and so on. 

During all this, I'm texting my brother, who commiserates as he is 6'4" and hates shopping and comments, "Jeans would be tough. I can't really find jeans for myself."

I think and think and can't remember the last time I bought jeans for myself at anyplace other than Goodwill. I think the last three pairs I've gotten have all belonged to someone else first, hehe!

She settles on a pair of 16 regulars with a boot cut and likes them enough (or will at least tolerate them) that when I suggest grabbing an extra pair, she doesn't roll her eyes and she snags one out of the stack.

We head home, I go to cut all the tags off and discover she's selected a pair of 16 husky which is not going to work at all. 

"Carrie! These are husky! Is this what you meant to grab?"

"Uh, no. Those aren't going to fit."

If you've seen her lately, you know she's not a stick, but she is nowhere near the husky category. She's a tall, slim chick, but isn't a skinny jean fan. She likes some room and as she has actual muscles from all these years of karate, she doesn't want jeans sticking to her as she's sitting in school all day. 

*Facepalm*

"They sure aren't. I'll take them back tomorrow..."

*sigh* 

Anyone else feel like they live in Walmart these days? I feel like we should just put our account on direct deposit...

Tis the season!