Not Fancy At Heart

I am a creature of comfort. I like my shorts. I like my jean skirt. I like my black flip-flops.

I do make an effort though - I try to pick out a nice shirt, my flip-flops have little rhinestones on them, and I make sure my hair is done and at least mascara is applied.

Yet, I am still a disappointment to Ana. I know she dreams of a very "fancy" mother. I know this because each day she implores me to wear one of the dresses I have hanging at the back of my closet. Of course I decline. I am not about to go out in an evening gown. I do have some casual dresses, and in fact she found one for me back there that I had even forgotten I owned, but there is just something too something for me about wearing things like that. I like my ability to bend over and not worry about who I am flashing with my granny panties.

I decided to make an effort yesterday, however. I called Ana into my closet and told her she could pick out any shirt for me to wear with my jean skirt. She was not pleased and tried to put me in my brown skirt with sequins, but I told her the shirt that went with it was dirty (lie, lie, lie). She finally picked out a flowery, lacy shirt.

I thought I would impress her by putting on shoes other than my black flip-flops. I chose a pair of flat-ish black shoes with a silver buckle-y thing at the top - the equivalent of shoe jewelry. Nothing doing. My lady declared them not fancy at all and did it in such a truly disappointed way that I bent to her choice - high heeled black shoes with a flower-ish thing in the middle of criss-cross straps. She about swooned.

This is why I will never let her dress me again. 5 minutes into my errand running I had almost twisted my ankle twice and I was sure I was forming a blister somewhere under those criss-cross straps. 10 minutes into my errand running I could have drawn a multi-colored map of my blisters. 15 minutes into my errand running I was hopping through the Whole Foods parking lot with said "fancy" shoes in hand, preferring the 95 degree asphalt to the pain of being fancy.

Tomorrow I am considering going out in jammies and slippers.