All I wanted was a crown. A new one. A shiny one. Just one. To put in my Christmas stocking.
And I almost had one in my hot little hands .
Had it not been for the telephone.
A plethera of crowns! Right in front of me. Blue ones, purple ones, silver ones! I was trying to decide which one to buy when the blasted phone rang right there in Toys Ain't Us.
No, I don't mean my cellphone.
I mean the large black customer service phone that hangs on the wall in every department store. Annoying!!! Ring! Ring! Ring!
Hush......would you just hush! I'm trying to pick out a crown here. Can't you see I'm a Queen?!!
And then it happened.
I don't know what possessed me. I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't concentrate. The ringing had to stop.
Yes, I did.
"Mimi Pencil Skirt. May I help you?"
"Could you assist a customer in electronic toys please, aisle 3?"
I was in over my pencil head.
"Who is this?"
said the very busy and up-to-her-eyeballs-in -screaming children- salesclerk.
"A customer," I meekly and sweetly said."You're not supposed to answer the phone!!"
"I know that..... "
"Hang up the phone, lady!"
"......but it was ringing and I was here."
Thank goodness the pink feather boas and fancy fans were within reach right beside the tiny tinsel tiaras
I think I'm in trouble. What else is new.
For weeks now I've been ruminating in that pencil brain of mine just how I could pull off a caper in the local toys'ain'ta'us joint without getting caught. I had to pick the busiest day of the year - the eve of the eve of Christmas Eve. And I had to pick up the phone.
Eve....n so, it almost worked.
I quickly headed north to the silk flower arrangements in the back of the store. They wouldn't find me there. I was sure of it. I took the pink fluff with me, a ballerina Barbie dress just in case I had to change clothes and a wand.
Don't ask me why I needed a wand.
It just seemed appropriate.
And I would have been OK had it not been for those singing Spanish Abuelita dolls: Tita Abuelita, Pancho Abuelita, Baby Abuelita, Tita Abuelita and just plain Abuelita (Spanish for Grandmother). How could this be correct? They can't ALL be abuelitas! Only the Grandmother can be an abuelita. This is false advertising if I ever saw it. And believe me, I was not amused. So, I thought I'd listen to their song first before I busted 'em.
I pressed the little button. Grandpa sang Fera Jacque en Espanol with a heavy American accent. French and Spanish AND gender misappropriation. No wonder our children are confused. No Spanish Child Left Behind has made a total mess of things.
Papa sang bass, grandma sang something akin to croaking and baby sang a light little American song. Confused again. I thought it might be nice to hear a quartet before I got arrested, so I played them all at once. It was lovely!
I rearranged them. Soprano beside bass, baby soprano beside abuelita and on and on. What fun!
Then I noticed that there were 12 more little abuelitas on the shelf underneath.
A whole choir. I'm in Heaven!
I tried to film a video of the "Sounds of Abuelita" but kept having to hide my camera in the folds of the ballerina crinoline. This caper is half-baked.
I haven't had this much fun since I asked people in the local Laundromat if I could watch their clothes. I was having a grand time in the culturally confused Christmas rush until a whistle blower showed up.
"What are you doing?"
"I wanted to hear them sing."
"We don't allow people to rearrange the toys."
"Well, maybe I want to buy more than one. I need to see if their voices blend, don't I?"
She looked at me holding a pink feather fan with a cart full of mismatched crowns and the smell of black telephone vapor on my hands and said something in her brain that I can't repeat. And it was Christmas! How rude. Is there a law against playing Abuelita dolls? I think not. The sign on Pancho's hand clearly stated "Press my hand. I sing."
And I'm a Queen ya know! I have certain undeniably certifiable rights! I'm a Queen, I say, yes! With rights and a bunch of crowns and a castle and everything. I should be able to hear the Abuelitas. It's a free country!!
The babies kept singing and I continued to inhale feathers. And then I remembered I'd forgotten the shoes. So I headed south.... back to the pink Barbie department to find them. Whew! They were still there.
Aren't they lovely?
And then it happened.
The phone rang.
Not the one on the wall this time, the one in my purse.
It was my sister. "Whatcha doing?"
"Trying not to get arrested in the toy store. I had to go hide...and...."
"Why are you whispering?"
"Don't tell me."
"Well, I just wanted a cr...."
"Don't tell me."
"This is why I don't go shopping with you anymore."
I guess she forgot that she asked for shoes this Christmas. She won't be getting them now. Maybe she'd like a nice feather boa instead......
Note: Way past time for a silly post. I had this ready before the Christmas stress. Thank you for all the support and love I've received in the past week. I hope you enjoy this post. I will be back on track tomorrow with Monday Mimisms and a tag from Tarheel Lee.
It is good to feel like a pencil skirt again.