Last night I dreamt I was trying on bikinis. It was a very depressing experience. The festive vodka drink I had in the dressing room with me did not help. I felt anything but festive. Nigel kept snickering behind his paw and saying things like, "Cellinite" and "Mom's a chubba bubba" and "Hefty". Rosebud kept mewling pathetically like she was being tortured instead of required to sit quietly in a dressing room for 30 minutes. The changing room clerk kept cruising by asking, "Is everything all right in there?"
"Yes, yes, everything is fine!" I would reply cheerily. "Is EVERYTHING all RIGHT in there?" "Yes, YES, YES! Everything is fine!" "Ma'am! Is EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT IN THERE, REALLY???" "YES! DAMN IT, YES! EVERYTHING IS FINE AND DANDY! MY DAUGHTER IS JUST A DRAMA QUEEN, THAT'S ALL! OH! AND MY SON THINKS MY THIGHS ARE A RIOT!!!! OTHER THAN THAT, WE ARE DANDY IN HERE!!! HOW ABOUT YOU? YOU DANDY?!?!?" The last question asked menacingly. "Ye...yes...I...I'm good!" she replied and scurried back to the safety of her little number cards and reject rack. I tried on the last bathing suit and I don't know what it was...the color, the cut...but it fit incredibly well and made me look...well, fabulous. "Vavoom, Mom!" Nigel exclaimed. "Looks....okay...I guess..." Rosebud allowed. "Can we go noooowwwwwwwww?" she howled just to be Rosebudish. I looked at the price tag. There was a red clearance tag on the bathing suit and the price said "FREE". I put my festive vodka drink in my purse and strolled out in the bathing suit showing the "FREE" tag to all the employees. They took pictures on their cell phones because I suddenly looked so lovely! My bruised ego was resuscitated. I felt great! I walked outside the store. It was snowing.
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