About two weeks ago, I wrote about how irritating it is to go shopping with my husband. The way he shops drives me crazy!
Well, today, I have been driven a different kind of crazy. I went shopping with my mother. I know, I know – the general consensus on Twitter was ‘Do NOT go shopping with your mother. Ever.’
Here are snippets of our conversations.
Mum: Arun (short for Aruni (which was my name before marriage)), look at this. This is nice.
Me: No – I don’t like it. It’s too shiny.
Mum: Actually, no. It will make you look fat. Sorry, fattER.
Me: Err. Thanks.
Me: Oh – this is nice, look.
Mum: Oh yes, it does look nice. (She has only seen the back of it so far.)
(I turn dress around.)
Mum: Oh no. All your dresses are the same style and they’re very unflattering!
(Please note that she was referring to ONE (cotton/wool blend) drawstring dress that lost it’s shape after the first wash (but I still continue to wear it).)
Mum: Look at this top – it’s very much your ‘style’.
Me: Is it? (Really not sure)
Mum: But don’t get it. I remember you had something similar in Bombay.
Me: But I don’t like it anyway.
Mum: Good. I don’t think you should get it.
(You see where this is going?)
Now, you must understand that my feelings weren’t hurt… I’m actually glad that she was with me. As irritating as she sounds (and can sometimes be), at least she’s honest and makes sure I buy things that look good. I know I’ve put on weight over the last few months (and I’m going to embark on Operation Fit and Fabulous (this will involve wearing my HotPants, listening to Thinking Slimmer and geting on with MutuSystem) when I get back to Lagos (on Monday)).
So HOPEFULLY by Easter (or at least by the time BritMums Live rolls round), I’ll be looking my best 😉