I’ve learned by experience that my mother is not your average parent. With school coming up soon; I started my day to her bouncing atop my bed screaming back to school shopping, let’s go! I rolled out bed at six o’clock in the morning, and cursed her for being so naturally hyper. I’m like my father in that way; the two of us are more of the night owl sort. Although, who would turn down an opportunity like this? Personally I love being able to go back to school sporting new attire; it makes me feel like somehow over the last three months I’ve grown up a little. Even though I probably hadn’t. I’m a stickler about change. I like who I am, and where I am at this school. I have two amazing best friends: Logan and Mila, and I may not be the most popular girl but, I like to think I’m well off.
We pulled up to the deserted mall parking lot, and dubiously sat waiting for the stores to open. I sip my Starbucks coffee I made her drive through to get me, and took in my mother beside me. Tall and slender, she sat eagerly against the door, her hair a tumbling mess of long blonde curls falling just below her shoulder. I sigh out of frustration, and take another sip. That was another thing I hadn’t inherited from her. She had perfectly curled hair all of the time without having to do a thing. Whereas I, on the other hand, have more of a wave than a curl; I blame my father for that. His hair is jet black, and chalk board straight. That entire side of my family's is in fact.
My mother reaches for the handle as soon as we see mall security unlocking the front doors. I roll my eyes, and smile at her. She is such a girl. Minutes later we arrive at our first stop; a little boutique call Saving Grace. I watch while I work to finish my coffee as my mother’s eyes scan each row of clothes; she took to them like a shark hunting a seal. Each move calculated and precise, I am almost scared to interrupt. As if hearing my thoughts, her stark green eyes dart in my directed, and she gives me a look of disdain. With a final, drawn out gulp, I finish the last of my peppermint mocha, and join her. Out of everything I didn’t inherit from her; stark hazel green eyes, which change color according to my mood and other various things, is one thing I am thankful that I did. No offense to my father.
Half an hour passed, and by now we were already at stop two. With the first stop down, and nothing to show for it, I can tell my mother is getting that itch of needing to find something. I pull out a shirt from the long line of racks, and hold it up. It was actually not a bad shirt. It was short sleeved, emerald colored, with a low v cut and plain. Wearing this would definitely make my eyes pop, and look good against my sun-kissed summer glow I’d worked so hard towards. Eyeing it from across the room, my mother crinkles her nose, a sheer sign she didn’t approve, and shifts her attention to the back wall where women’s shoes sit in rows by the dozen. I pull it back in front of me, and after a beat I decide to hold onto in anyways.
We break for lunch an hour later with more bags than two people should carry but, I’m not one to complain. I chose a ChicFila chicken sandwich, and she had a salad from the Salad Shoppe. Afterwards, we ran our bags to the car before treading back inside. By now it was around two o’clock, which means in only three short hours Mila will arrive at my house to get ready for the party tonight. Bobby Kaiser was throwing his annual back to school summer bash, and there was no way I could miss it. I may not be the most popular but, I’m not an idiot. Those who are out of town, or who opt not to come often regret it the second first period comes around. It’s like a ritual that predetermines how your year will turn out: if you go you’re in the clear, if not. . . Well, let’s just say it’s as if committing social suicide.
Thankfully my mom is completely aware of what it would mean, and together we call it a day two and a half hours later. Our car packed so full to the brim that some of the bag began hurling through the front gap at us every time she turned. “I love you sweetie.” She said as we brought the last of the bags up to my room. I set my last one on the floor, and hugged her tight. Her arms instantly wrap around me, and she kisses my forehead.
“Thank you, again.” I smiled up at her, our eyes a matching pair. The doorbell rings seconds later, and I listen as my dad moves to answer it. I already knew it would be Mila, and head to the hallway to greet my friend. As I do, I notice out of the corner of my eye my mother skimming through the bags, and after finding the one she was looking for, she sets it atop my bed. She walks past me in the hallway, her hand quickly moving my hair over my left shoulder, and then turns for the kitchen. Mila waving to her as she practically runs me over in excitement. Back in my room her eyes grow wide as she takes in all the shopping bags but, I’m too busy examining the one on my bed to notice.
“Holy crap,” I can hear the awe-struck tone clear in her voice. “your mom is the best!”
We distance the bags off to the area closets to my bed, and begin our normal routine of getting ready. I wait until she is in the shower to inspect the bag my mom had laid out. Inside it, the pair of white washed jean shorts my mother loved, and my emerald green top. Out of habit I roll my eyes, silently thanking her as I did. Another two hours passed before we were heading out the door to Bobby’s house. It definitely didn’t take us the full two hours to get ready but, after we showered we took turns modeling my new clothes before hanging them up. With bathing suits on underneath our clothes, we pulled out of my house at exactly seven thirty. My mother standing at the edge of the drive way waving after us, a smile across her face, and in that moment I didn’t care about what I didn’t or did inherit from her. All I could think about was how lucky I was to have her.