MORE EVIDENCE OF WHY MY MO-THER NEEDS CONSTANT ADULT SUPERVISION

Last night my mo-ther and my Aunt Chrissy left the house to go pick up their new spectacles. Mom had her eyes tested a few weeks ago and learned that her prescription had changed, so she decided to splurge on herself and go for "a new look". I'll let her tell you more about these glasses later, but let's just say that I'm getting increasingly concerned about my college fund and the withdrawals that keep happening for ridiculously expensive purchases.

I waited patiently on my perch for them to return, and expected Mom to have only one little bag in her hands from the eyeglass place, but when I saw the words "Bed, Bath, and Beyond", I knew we were in trouble.

Exhibit A shows the contents of said bag:
I blame my Stitchy Uncle Egdar for the cherry/olive pitter, since Mom decided that she just HAD to make cherry preserves this weekend. (Did I mention that she already ATE all the cherries?) The fish spatula was something I begged her for, since my grilled salmon is very delicate and I had a really hard time getting it to the plate in one piece last weekend. And I suppose I could understand the little egg skillet, since Mom does like her eggs on toast in the mornings.

But the other stuff? Debbie Meyer green bags? Pro Caulk? I swear, the only reason my mo-ther bought these two items is because our local newscaster (Mr. Terry McFadden His very Self) tested them in his "As Seen On T.V." segments and gave them both a thumbs up. I'm not even sure that we have produce to bag or edges to caulk, but there they are...for all the world to see.

I can almost forgive the eucalyptus bath salts and back brush, since I'm all about the spa experience, but the foot scrubber? She already has one of these things! I know this, because when I wait patiently outside the shower door every morning I can hear her rubbing her foot across the damn thing, all while letting out noises that a puppy shouldn't hear! Why the heck did she need a second one?

All I know is that my Aunt Chrissy is an enabler, and despite my warnings to keep my mom out of retail establishments, we have these incidents happening with more and more frequency. I've read about "retail therapy", and I saw the Oprah episode in which she talks about shopping as a substitution for a meaningful relationship, but methinks it's time to put my paw down.

I can't show you any stitchy updates because Mom insisted on wearing her glasses last night and she can't see up close with them. And when I told her to go take them off and put her contacts and stitchy glasses on, she just looked at me as though I was nuts. Why she felt compelled to "look fabulous" sitting in the Happy Chair with her robe and slippers on is beyond me, but I fight these battles one at a time.

So that's the report from Chez Spinster, ladies and gentlemen. I'll keep you abreast of any further developments, but in the meantime, I'm going to go hide the car keys.

With love from your pal,
Stewey