Lately I bought several things that shrank after washing them. I purchased them in nice shops, so I wasn’t expecting it. But they’re only clothes that hopefully will make someone else happy. Surprisingly the latest incident brought back some pleasant memories. My mother did her best with very little resources. How she managed to buy anything was a miracle but how she managed to buy what she did was a mystery. I once jokingly asked her if she shopped on Mars.
One Christmas she bought mittens for my sister and me. They had faux leather on the palm side and faux rabbit fur on the other side. Each pair had two left hands. We laughed as we did with many of her purchases and used them for a day in the snow until they wore out. A short life also being one of the signature features of her special finds. Quality at its best. She bought us both mittens one other winter made of Martian blindingly bright orange material. Day-glo didn’t exist then. Yet I’m sure we could have directed traffic with them in a blizzard.
Another memorable Christmas gift was a pair of pink and white flannel footie pajamas for a petite 8 year old god-daughter. She took them out of the plastic wrapper when she got home to see if they looked the right size. We made my brother try them on. He was six feet tall – a perfect fit – long before they sold footie pajamas for adults (or giants). Some things were disappointing and some embarrassing but most just made us laugh.
My mother has been living a good life for years now. But for some reason, she still shops on Mars. A few years ago, though, she switched from a Martian bargain basement to a Martian second-hand store. One of my favorites is a stained medical dictionary she gave her grandson for Christmas so he could play Scrabble. He’s never played Scrabble. A few other favorites are a turtle lamp, ornaments sized for the tree at Rockefeller Center, and a fly swatter with a big flower on it (to fool the flies). But the winner is a couple of prescription bottles she filled with old coins and adorned with kids’ stickers for another grandson. I think he was in law school at the time.