Fast forward to Black Friday: I spot them on the sale rack 60% off. I squeal. My mom says I do not need designer red patent pumps, especially with my tendency to jump in puddles/lack of social life that would allow me the opportunity to wear red patent pumps. Besides, even at 60% off, they are still much too much. I try to thoroughly convey to her that if these shoes were a boy, I would marry them. The saleslady jumps in the argument and tells my mom these shoes are a great deal and, hey look, the bottom is made of genuine leather, she'll even scratches them to prove this us. Um, thanks a heap for scratching my dream shoes, lady. I attempt to sweet talk her into giving us a better discount and fail. Miserably.
On Christmas morning I spot a giant package. I suspect that it is a waffle iron and become really excited. Turns out, it's the pumps, hidden in a giant package (those rascal folks of mine).My mom went back a week later and the shoes were marked down even more. When they are not on my feet, I plan on placing them on a shelf where I will feed them bon bons and whisper sweet nothings into their ears.
Oh and I also did get a waffle iron, along with this recipe binder my mom made with a bunch of pictures from an old food magazine she found at the thrift store. I think it kind of upstages the shoes. I mean, DO YOU SEE HOW THAT JELLO MOLD GLISTENS?
*This was supposed to be posted a week ago. Did you really take me for that much of a procrastinator (don't answer that...)Blogger and I were going through a bit of a tiff, but now we're besties again.