I do not watch the shopping channel. While I used to enjoy trips to the mall when I was younger, today I consider them torture: too far to walk, no place to rest, and the place reeks of perfume. My idea of getting through necessary shopping is to send Max to the grocery, as he likes to check out what is happening. My other plan is to order everything on-line and let UPS or USPS deliver it. The shipping charges get high, but gas is expensive, too, not to mention the time shopping takes.

That said, I ventured to the mall the other day, hoping some shoes I wanted were on sale. They were not, but I purchased them anyway, not wanting to waste my time and effort, which mean more to me than money. I also looked at handbags. When I was a girl, my grandmother advised me never to spend more than $3 for a purse. Good thing she has passed on, as she would be stunned at prices. I boldly looked at what I thought were the more expensive bags, priced +/- $100, when another display caught my eye. There the bags were $250 and more. I hastened away. The next problem was size. For months, I have been reading the cartoon “Cathy,” which has spoofed the large size of stylish women’s purses. Well….I see she was not kidding. Those things are whoppers. Several, loaded with chains and gewgaws, were so heavy that I could barely lift them. I have suitcases the size of some of these purses. I was not tempted to purchase one, deciding I could make do with the dozen unstylish purses already stuffed in my closet. One of my other issues is never throwing anything away.

Exhausted from my tour of the shoe and handbag departments at Dillard’s, I got in my car [no kidding—this mall is a mile long] and drove around to the other end to shop at Penny’s, where the stuff is no junkier and the prices are lower. It was fortunate that I decided to drive around, as I bought a large rug which I could barely drag to the car, instead literally bouncing the bag along the floor, wishing for a strong man, as I trudged to the car.

With my last bits of energy, I drove to McDonalds, it being 3:00 pm and breakfast long forgotten at 9:00 am. I munched a bag of fries in remembrance of those countless trips to the mall when my children were young—and the final destination was McD’s.

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