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Looking for a perfect fit at mall? Remote chance
Cheryl O'Donovan
Updated: April 25, 2012 1:59PM
My friends, I’m en route to the 2012 Erma Bombeck conference in Dayton, Ohio, and because I’ve put on weight (stifling sobs, reaching for tissues), I need spiffy new clothes.
At the mall I pass the trendy section of teensy-size zeros, summoning my courage. Pretend Stacey and Clinton are with me from “What Not to Wear.” Find clothes that flatter my figure type. My figure type right now is “schlump.”
In the shoe section I marvel at the stilettos on display. Walking is not possible in those. Hobbling, yes. For a minute sanity deserts me and I try on a pair, feeling like Cinderella’s tubby stepsister. “Traction,” I think. I wear these, and I wind up on a hospital cot and sending my husband to Walgreens for economy-sized heat packs.
The prom section teems with low-cut dresses. I reflect on my first prom dress, a navy, full-length creation which could at best be described as “Amish meets polka dots.” And I still safety-pinned the neckline.
I reflect on the skinny clothes hanging in my closet and wonder if “The Biggest Loser” would consider me as a contestant. Hmm. Reality shows require lots of conflict. To ensure a fight they’d book me and my husband and then give one of us the TV remote.
He never stays on one channel past 30 seconds, while I watch shows that make him grind his teeth.
Maybe he’d get the remote first and commence his habit of channel surfing. Brief landing on a hockey brawl where a guy loses teeth. Next, we’re watching a Revolutionary War battle. Just as Washington gives an order, we’re off to another channel, something about the infinite universe.
I lure him away from the remote by whispering that I sneaked in some Okey-Doke cheese popcorn. Its siren’s call beckons from the kitchen. The instant he leaves I turn the channel to “Mad Men.”
He returns, grunting with disgust. “This Don Draper guy, I can’t believe you like him. You worked in advertising, Cheryl. Draper would’ve stolen all your ideas.”
“That may be true,” I grin. “But there would be the payoff.”
“What?”
“Drooling over him.”
“Give me that remote.”
