What I say: A trip to the mall with my favorite Tween for some retail therapy!
What I mean: After being at the mall, I need therapy! My kid loves to friggen shop. She should be Paris Hilton's BFF, because I cannot afford her. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that she's a size zero. (I don't think I was a size zero in-utero, so I'm not quite sure where she gets it.) Not only can I not afford her, there is not enough Zoloft in Massa-freakin-chusetts to make me want to enter another Hollister anytime in the next six months. Walking in, I was immediately disoriented by the darkness. Once my eyes adjusted, I got a headache from either the strong smell of the perfume/cologne or the blaring music. How is shopping like that even enjoyable? I literally had a panic attack when the sales kid (who looked like he was 9) asked me if I was finding everything ok, but I only saw his lips moving - there was no sound. I thought I was going to pass out. I answered, "Yup. All set," and my daughter's lips mouthed the words "Mom - you're so loud!" Are you shitting me?
And here's a message for the twat waffle and her douchebag daughter who were standing at the register at another store complaining about the fact that they couldn't use their coupons on certain items. Read the fine fucking print. Do not stand at the register while there is a line of people waiting for - and I'm not shitting you - thirty five minutes trying to get your way. It's ignorant and you are assholes. For people who know me, it should come as no surprise that I could not keep my mouth shut. After waiting 35 minutes, I earned the right to speak up. While Twat Waffle was pleading her case, she said, "...and I never complain." Before I really had a chance to think about it, the words "well, you're doing a fantastic job for your first time," fell out of my mouth. "Well, what's right is right," Twat Waffle said. And then she said more shit that I ignored. When I was done, the cashier handed me my receipt and told me that I had earned coupons for my next visit, and she asked me if I knew how to use them. "Of course I know how to use them," I said in my Italian whisper, with a grin from ear to ear. "And if I wasn't sure, I can read. I would just read the back of the coupon, where it clearly states what I can and can't use it on." The cashier looked like she was leaning in for a kiss and hug, and I turned on my heel and high-fived the other customers waiting in line!