Dirty Baptism (of sorts)

Last weekend I was shopping at Kohl’s (which is my favorite place to shop for…. well….. anything, oh and everything). For my Canadians, Kohl’s is like shopping at The Bay. Or how shopping at The Bay used to be, just with more sales as everything seems to be at least 50% off when I am there.

So there I was, with V, looking for something to wear to dinner with M to celebrate our 4th anniversary.

I can fit a stroller in the change room AND I had a huge bag of cheesy-poofs for him to occupy himself with.

I must have had a million outfits hanging off the stroller. Some of them were even cheesy-poof free (he has grabby hands)…. (and apparently I am Queen of the brackets tonight).

Off we went to the changing room, poofs and outfits in hand. I strategically maneuvered the stroller until it was in front to the mirror, so V could stare at himself. I figured that this would occupy him, while I pulled things on and off my head…

Off came my tank-top and on went a dress. V was transfixed in the mirror, staring away at himself.

Off went the dress and on went another dress….. V’s little hand was slowly reaching towards the mirror, pointer finger extended with such a charming expression on his face. He looked up towards me in the mirror, with such an excited look on his face….

Off went that dress and on went a skirt and top….. V’s little hands were splayed out on the surface of the mirror. Again, he looked up at me in the mirror and smiled at me….

Off went the skirt and top, and on went another dress…. V’s hands were running up and down the mirror, and I forgot that he had been eating baby cheesey poofs. His hands were wet and covered in poofs and he was smearing them all over the mirror.

I looked at the mirror, and looked at him (and then looked at me in the mirror in that dress….. and didn’t try anything else on). He was ecstatic! I was doubled over trying to silently giggle. The ladies in the changing rooms next to me were loudly critiquing each others outfits in a very New York accenty sort of way. I think it masked my laughter.

The mirror was filthy. A full 1 1/2 foot section covered in smear. Smear which was gluten free!!

I didn’t care!

I bought the dress.

And we left the mirror just like that. Silent homage to my new motherhood?  Baptism of changing room? Mixture of both.