Boots

My mother has had her eye on these boots since before Christmas. Buttery Buckskin, they were rediculously expensive, even by TJ Maxx standards. They're a little funky and sassy, just like her. We don't live anywhere near Aspen, but I think being with in a few hours of the Canadian Border entitles her to wear them. She reminds me of a pint sized middle aged Bo Derek.

When we saw they were marked down to a mere $25, I told her she HAD to have them.

"They have two pairs in my size. Do you think I should wait and see if they get marked down some more?", she asks.

Sometimes I just can't understand they way her mind works. Both of my parents came from poor families so there are times when they're completely irrational towards making certain purchases.

"If you're not going to buy them, I'm going to buy them for you. They're only $25!" I say. She decided to get them. I thought Snowflake had a blowout so we had to rush out of the store ASAP.

It was a false alarm. When I came downstairs, she already had one boot entirely laced up. That alone is quite a feat.

"Can I just call you Trapper Jean?" I rib her.

I actually had to lace the last few eyelets on one of the boots because she couldn't get it through. When someone has to help you get something on because you just can't do it yourself, that shows a real commitment to fashion. She had no sooner put them on and it was off to our 91 year old Granny O.O.'s for a farewell before their trip.

We walk in to her fastidious and adorable apartment. It's always sunny and warm and she has the view of the old City Hall out of her window. My mom immediately plops down in the Laz-Y-Boy, crossing her legs as if to preen.

"You like my boots mom?" she says to O.O.

Wrinkling up her nose and holding back a laugh she quietly coos, "You look like an old Indian maid. Where on Earth did you buy those?"

Then she tells O.O. how she bagged them so cheaply. I could tell, O.O. thought they were hilarious and almost costume like. Snowflake and I brought her a box of Neuhaus truffles for Valentine's Day. My Granny loves chocolate so she opened them up and encouraged us all to have one.

My mother who swears she "just doesn't care for chocolate" had at least four pieces out of the box.

"I thought you didn't like chocolate?", I say.

"Well, I do today!"

Normally, O.O. will walk us to one of the doors of her building. When I suggested we exit by the main lounge where all of the crows congregate she pulled back like I was the garlic to her vampire.

"Aren't you going to walk down here with us? Don't you want to visit?", my mom says to her curiously. This is bizarre behavior for her. She always walks out with us.

"Nah, I'm going to go back into my apartment."

"Well then, lets just go out of the maintenance door. Come on, Troobee. Love you Granny" I say as we walk out. My mom repeats the same words to her.

We get into the car and discuss how strange it was that she didn't want to walk past the lounge with us. When you're 91 you do what you want without any explanation.

"I think she was embarassed to be seen with me wearing these boots!" my mother bursts out. We begin to laugh about it. Even Snowflake laughs.

These boots weren't made for walkin' with O.O. I guess. They look better on Snowflake anyway.