Meet me at the mall

By Daisy Cabral

So just a few days left. Just a handful of hours, really, before the more youthful among us find themselves hauling their trusty book bags back to the land of learning. Or the land of detention, if need be. You know who you are, kids.Some of my fondest childhood memories or at least some of the ones I can't block out come from my back-to-school days, when summer finally gave way to fall and mom caved in and took us shopping. Like she had a choice. Somehow both my brother and I managed to grow each summer like we had a hormone disorder, so that every August the only thing left in our closets that fit us were our socks. And those had usually taken on a shade of brown that looked like we had used them to wash the car. So off to the mall we went.Back-to-school shopping wasn't exactly at the top of my brother's list of fun stuff to do. Frankly, it would have been all the same to him had he gone to school in pants fashioned from a Hefty bag and an old shoelace, and shopping with our mother and me only cut into his busy schedule of practicing armpit farts and getting gum stuck in his hair.My own summer routine, on the other hand, pretty much consisted of lying on the couch and complaining. Sort of like now. Only younger. I was more than happy to escape the confines of my parents' house and head to the air-conditioned, junk-food-filled, chock-full-of-stuff-I-never-knew-I-needed mall even if it was with my mother, who during my teen years, wasn't exactly the Queen of Cool. Of course, between my braces, glasses and generally surly demeanor, I was no Paris Hilton myself.To this day, I will never know why she insisted on taking both of us on the same day. My brother and I were not, ahem, friendly. Expecting us to get along on this excursion was akin to asking a cobra and a mongoose to play nice. It doesn't hurt to ask, I suppose, but at some point, somebody's bound to draw blood.School shopping with my mother was part family vacation, part hostage negotiations with my mother as the hostage, it turned out as we wheedled and whined our way into whatever overpriced fashion statement we had to have. When we weren't begging from our mother, we were hissing at each other, both of us horrified at the prospect that someone would see us with our oh, the horror family. As if we could be related to each other. Please. We usually ended up with one of us walking five feet ahead of my mother and one of us five feet behind, while our mother called back and forth to us with comments like, "Well, honey, do you really think you need a new bra? I don't think you've grown that much." Oh, good. That won't draw any unwanted attention.The chilling truth is, mom just liked to spend time with her children, and while she always disguised it as "love," I'm willing to bet part of her figured if she could actually see us both, it was less likely that either of us would end up getting arrested. Although I'd say there were a couple of close calls over the years.For those teens out there who may not have tapped into your inner mongoose, here's a few hints on school shopping, guaranteed to either get you everything you want or nothing. Take your chances, I always say. Always start by looking at the $150 pair of shoes. Then the $75 pair looks like a steal. Speaking of stealing, do not I repeat, do NOT try to pull a five-finger discount while shopping with your mom. If she's anything like mine, she's psychic and she has the police department on speed dial. And she'll make you write apology letters to everyone in the store. Rolling your eyes and groaning, "Mother, please" does not necessarily convey the air of dignity you think it does. "I promise I won't ask for anything the rest of the day," "I'll pay you back," and "I'll do extra work around the house." Yeah, I know. We thought we invented those phrases when we were your age, too. If you try on anything that makes your mother clap her hands and say, "You look adorable," run fly like the wind, my young friend in the other direction. Trust me on this one.By the end of the day, my brother and I usually had some of what we wanted, some of what mom wanted there's that "adorable" part and one or two things that nobody wanted, but, well, there they were on the bargain rack, so...And while I may not need to go school shopping anymore, every once in awhile I'll drag Cliff to the mall for old times' sake. Now if I can just convince him that I really need those $150 shoes.Daisy Cabral lives in Brownfield, where she enjoys tapping into her inner mongoose. Contact her at zoo@pivot.net.