growing up (soLs)
“You can’t buy that,” I said through slit teeth, eyes darting up and down the aisle to make sure no one saw us.
Mom looked at me like I was the one with the problem. (Hindsight says she might have been the one in the right here, after all, I was a teenager.) “Everybody buys this,” and she plopped a package of toilet paper in the cart. It wasn’t a cute little four pack, but the giant, huge, larger than a small child pack of double-roll toilet paper. I thought I was going to die.
“Everybody doesn’t use that much!” I whisper-yelled, ducking my head as someone walked by the end of the aisle. “Get a smaller pack!” I didn’t think things could get any more embarrassing, until she went for another pakage.
“Seriously, Mom! Put it back!” I may have been hysterical.
“We don’t want to run out,” Mom said, grasping the ridiculously huge pack of toilet paper with both hands. She balanced it in the cart, piling it on top of the other pack. Then, much to my dismay, she began parading the T.P. Mountain through the store.
I couldn’t believe she was doing this to me. I think I waited in the car. I do know she tormented me throughout my teenage years by threatening to buy toilet paper when we were shopping together.
Today, I bought the larger than a small child pack of double-roll toilet paper. Then I carried it out of the store, both hands grasping the extra-large package and smiled with pride at how far I’ve come.
|Check out other slicers or join the Slice
of Life Story Challenge by clicking on the