On Tuesday, in an effort to distract myself from the swirling eddy of depressing thoughts still lingering in my weary brain after my appointment on Monday, I went out shopping. My Beloved was in need of some short sleeved shirts and since I am capable of at least giving him that (I'll pause while you roll your eyes at my nauseating self deprecation), I figured I'd head out to the mall.
I went to my favourite discount department store (I engage in retail therapy, but I'm notoriously thrifty about it) and headed down to the mens section. On the way there I passed a rack of Mother's Day t-shirts. They were cheap and cheesy - and I decided I wanted one really badly.
My first reaction was to avert my eyes and walk quickly by, but then I stopped, turned my cart around and went back.
It was suddenly very important for me to get one of the tacky little #1 Mom tank tops. I figured I could wear it around the house or under something when I'm out gardening. No one (save My Beloved who sees me in all kinds of horrendous "at home" outfits) would ever have to actually see it.
I do realize how pathetic and creepily needy it is to buy yourself a #1 Mom shirt for Mother's Day, by the way - particularly when you don't have any living children - but having that tank top was important and soul soothing at that moment. And besides, as a childless mother I'm not included in Mother's Day celebrations as a mother myself. I'm invisible.
And I get that - I do. It makes sense and all, but still, it doesn't make it any less depressing. So a hidden tank top would have been nice.
But alas, they didn't have one in my size. So I left the rack of cheesy tops meant for smaller mothers with, who are we kidding, living children and continued on.
In the end I bought myself a pair of Snoopy slipper socks instead. On sale, of course. It's May - and unseasonably hot at the moment - so I won't be using them anytime soon, but some chilly Fall day I'll be very pleased with my Mother's Day consolation prize.