Christmas Shopping with Ladies Who Lunch

Today was SALE day at the giant Belks out at the Streets of Southpoint, which is just a few miles from our house. Since our Bible study was cancelled, we decided to study the shopping opportunities nearby – especially with a 25% off of everything coupon – one day only – burning a hole in our respective pocketbooks.

So we went – we saw- we shopped – we spent. All while I pushed Mom around in her transport chair. Already the vibe at the mall was upbeat and bordering on pre-Christmas psychotic. Mary Frances is C-A-R-E-F-U-L with her budget and her gift choices. And her generally gracious demeanor, at times, flew right out the holiday-wreath-bedecked door.

Example 1:

Mom wanted some pjs for one of her best friends, Janie (DON’T TELL!!!) There was a display right where we came into Belks from the parking lot. They got a quick looking over but Mom wanted to see MORE. So I pushed her across the store to the Intimates Section. There we found many additional choices, but still not what Mom wanted. So we headed back across the store to the entry way where we looked again at the first display. She wouldn’t hear of anything but flannel. The only pair I could find in the right size was a turquoise leopard print. Mary Frances looked at me with the haughty air of a respectable Southern woman and declared “They are UGLY.”

So we traversed the store again –dodging shoppers, strollers, odd sized kiosks, to look again at the Intimates section. I could only find two other pair of flannel pjs in the right size – one in red plaid and one with Christmas Scotties. “These are right cute” she grumbled half-heartedly.

They I found a pair of pjs out of a soft, plush material – a pretty blue pair with snowflakes. I timidly handed them over – they definitely weren’t flannel. The Queen Mother brushed her hand across the nap, and declared them “Perfect.”

Thank God.  The wheels of the transport chair and my back cooled down while I paid.

Example 2:

Imagine, if you will, many other gift items purchased, involving much pushing of said transport chair. By lunch, my back was complaining loudly.

And while we shopped, I had a dream. I A lovely Ladie’s Luncheon at Nordstrom’s. With comfortable booths, subdued lighting, fresh salads, constantly refilled glasses of sweet iced tea. Ahhhhhhhhh….

So when we wrapped up about 12:30, I wheeled us to the door of the Café. We were in luck. Only one person in line. I grabbed a menu and starting reading.

Then Mom interjects: “We can’t eat here, it’s too dark.”

She is joking, but not joking.

I laugh and persist in my perusal of the menu. I see key words:

Feta?

But I know without asking, she doesn't like feta.

Shrimp?

Nor shrimp.

Avocado?

Nope.

Chipotle?

Never.

Ham.

Forget it!

And then I hear her say: “Can we just have a hamburger? How about a hamburger? “

So I face the sad truth. There is no hamburger, no anything that my mom will eat at Nordstrom’s Café.

“Okay”, I say, a bit on the irradiated side. “How about the food court?”

“Great!”she exclaims!

So, I take a deep breath and we head back across the mall to the food court. There are, technically, no hamburgers at the food court either. But back in the way back there is a Chick-fil-A. I approach the seating area, move a chair and push Mom’s transport chair up to a table nearby. And approach the line.

Except once I get there, I’m the only one in line. And a well-groomed, well-spoken, charming woman takes my order. She engages in small talk while I fumble for my debit card. And magically, by the time I’ve swiped it – the young worker in the back has our food ready to go. And then I get choice of a great varieties of salad dressing.

I carry our sack back to Mom’s table. Chicken nuggets for her, which she loves and gleefully counts out loud as she eats. I begrudgingly admit to myself that my Cobb Salad is, well, pretty darn good. By the time I’m finished I look over at Mary Frances. She’s made it to her chocolate chip cookie and there’s a look of bliss on her sweet, wrinkled face.

So maybe I didn’t get the kid glove service I’d dreamed of at Nordstrom’s, but my service was terrific, my salad was tasty, and Mom was beaming.

We were, after all, Ladies who Lunch.