Monday, June 7, 2010

The Secret Dress

I opened our mailbox and peered in.

A package stared back out at me.

Yes! Yes! The ultra adorable dress that I won on eBay for Natalie had arrived. I got a fantastic deal and it would have been a crime to pass it up. Really.

But crap.

Tom was home. He was stretched out on the couch. He’d definitely see the package when I walked in with it. And just the other day I promised that I wouldn’t buy anymore clothes for the kids. It’s just...that was before I found the amazing deal. Maybe I should have added, “Unless I find an amazing deal.”

Tom feels that the kids have enough clothes for the summer. He peeked in their closets and went pale. Then he went through their drawers and pawed through the folded up clothes.

“So I think they have enough,” he said, staring at me pointedly.

And I found myself agreeing. But mainly because I wanted to get back to my television show. If I had said that no, actually the kids needed a few more outfits Tom would have lectured me. He’d have said things like, “And really, I don’t think Natalie needs more than five dresses,” and I’d have nodded along even though I’d be thinking, “Unless a really cute dress comes out.”

Tom isn’t innocent either. His vice is buying food. Even if I send him to work with a meal he sometimes detours somewhere and buys something. He’ll be all, “Oh, right before work I got a craving for a Snickers bar.” Or, “Yeah, I could smell Burger King in the air and HAD to have a Whopper. You know how it goes.”

So see? He was just as guilty.

I had a problem though. Where was I going to stick the package? I had to figure out something quickly, Tom would start to wonder what was taking me so long.

I decided to stick the package up my shirt. Then I’d rush into the house, toss the package somewhere and Tom would be none the wiser. Yes! Yes!

“Hi Tommy’s Mom.”

Shit.

Neighborhood kid alert. I repeat, neighborhood kid alert.

It was a little girl that Tommy plays with. She seemed to be frowning at my stomach. Probably because she could see the package outline. Or crap, she probably saw me sticking it up my shirt and was baffled.

“I know this looks weird,” I began. “But I’m just, er, keeping the package secret. It’s a…surprise.” This was sort of the truth. I was keeping it a surprise from Tom...indefinitely. He never remembers Natalie’s current clothes. She could walk out in a paper bag and he’d think she had it for years. It’s times like these when I appreciate man’s inability to notice pesky details like clothes.

The little girl blinked at me.

She clearly didn’t believe me.

“So yeah, I’m just keeping it a surprise,” I tried again. “Surprises are fun.” Could she just stop STARING at me for craps sake? Can’t a gal stick her mail up her shirt in peace?

“I just wanted to know if Tommy could play,” the little girl said.

Oh. So I probably didn’t have to go on and on about the package. All she was concerned with was playing.

Anyhow, I managed to sneak the dress in.

I ran inside and threw it in the hall closet. Of course I accidentally slammed the hall closet because apparently being discreet is not my forte and then Tom was all, “What was that?”

“A bug,” was the first thing that came to my mind.

“A bug?” Tom came into the room, frowning.

Okay, so that made no sense. Hurry, hurry, think of something else.

“So, you look good,” I said coyly, trying to look sexy. Mind you, it’s hard for me to look sexy because when I try to look sexy I’m usually asked if something is in my eye because for some reason to me being sexy is fluttering your eyelashes. Even though I’ve discovered that no, opening and shutting ones eyes rapidly is NOT considered sexy I still do it. I can’t help it.

“Um?” Tom was still baffled, probably because I was doing the eye thing. But in the end I managed to distract him. And really, I think the dress was worth it. I got it for only NINE dollars shipped and it’s a brand new dress. A bargain, really. So see? I HAD to buy it. And from now on, I will honor Tom’s wish and not buy anymore clothes.



Well, until the fall season, that is.

(And unless I find another fab deal…)

(What? I TRY to be good at least.)

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