The bride and I finally got the opportunity to do a little shopping on our own the other night. She had it mapped out, where we were going, what we were looking for, all that. The bride knows how I like to shop - we're in, we're out, we're done, bada-bing, bada-boom. That's the way it's done. Especially during the Christmas season with all the crowds.
So the bride decides that she needs to go into one of these shops where most dads feel really uncomfortable. I like to think I can handle just about anything, but there are certain articles of girls' clothing that dads want absolutely zero input on the purchases. Once we hit that juncture of the shopping excursion, I went to find a place to sit in the mall.
I didn't stay too long on the first couch. The second place, where the bride suggested I not go in because it was one of those places where I might embarrass her by saying stuff like, "Oh, wow, you'd look hot in that!" or, "Say, you mind trying that one on?" (I won't mention the name of the store because it's a "secret"), was more towards the middle of the mall. There were several leather-like couches and chairs. I found a comfortable chair, right beside the desk where kids signed up to see Santa. To my left, I heard a couple of older men debate the Mitchell Report from earlier in the day. They went from that to NASCAR to Pacman Jones and then back to baseball.
And then it hit me - I'm one conversation like that away from being an old man. Because that's what old men do in the mall. They sit outside the stores while their wife shops and they talk to other old men about anything and everything.
In an effort to recapture my youth, I got up, charged into the store where the bride was shopping, grabbed the skimpiest, most degrading outfit I could find and once I made eye contact with her said, "Hey, sweet thang, I done found me what I want for Christmas!"
OK, that last thing? I didn't really do that, but that would have been funny.....