Sometimes, when I go the store or to the post office or, say, to get Sam a haircut, I like to dress like I'm a respectable adult. You might find this surprising considering my recent confession to occasionally resembling a homeless man in my spare time. But, in fact, I actually take showers and have been known to brush my hair and even wear lip gloss.
So, yesterday was one of those days where I decided to kick it up a notch. Despite the seriously depleted wardrobe I had to choose from, due to a negligent laundress (me, in case you were confused), I wasn't sporting my finest. However, I did pull out the iron (gasp!) and pressed the little creases in my Converse Target skirt to make it look a little more refined (I'm using this word so loosely, I'm surprised it hasn't fallen off the page).
Sam and I head to Great Clips down the mountain (kiddo haircut - $10; Mexican restaurant next door for a post-haircut enchilada - priceless). It happens to be in a strip mall of sorts catty-corner to The Wal-Mart. And, because of where we live, which is close to mountains, this whole montage of consumerism is positioned in a valley that is way, way too picturesque for one of Sam Walton's temples of cheapness. In fact, I told Sam (my Sam, not Mr. Walton), "Wal-Mart does not deserve to be here," to which he did not respond.
Anyhoo, because by this time you are probably clamoring for a photo of Sam's new haircut, I'll indulge you:
And now, I'll share a photo of me, who you'll remember was trying hard to look relatively decent and even remotely adult-like on our little outing to Wal-Mart Valley. (That's right. We put on our fancy duds to go to Wal-Mart)
What's that sticker about, you ask? Oh, well, despite my efforts to look like a real adult, someone (see picture above my picture) thought sticking their "I Heart Great Clips" sticker on my chest was a good way to find it later. This must have happened at some point when I was distracted by the cashier at Wal-Mart or choosing Berenstein Bear books at the library because within a couple minutes, I'd forgotten it was there.
And so, that sticker stayed there for the rest of our errand-running. I can only imagine people wondered at my apparent enthusiasm for Great Clips seeing as how I was willing to proudly wear a sticker proclaiming my love for them and their great clips on my chest.
Attempt to accomplish haircut, grocery run, library visit - SUCCESS!
Attempt to appear like a put-together and somewhat normal adult: FAIL
Free advertisement for Great Clips compliments of my chest: DONE