Hiding the evidence

hiding the evidence

I had to do it, its a thing I can’t stop, I had to shop!  I have tried, boy I have tried (really I haven’t).  The excuse goes like this…I had one of those days, frustrated by a client, and feeling bad for myself, I ran out of the house like it was on fire. I needed retail therapy. After all, it was Spring and the house needed refreshing, besides my BFF is coming in town in a few weeks and she is a tad judgmental.

So this shopping trip was fulfilling my insatiable appetite, like a druggy on the corner looking for his fix, I need this day of shopping.  Making the house look inviting; flowers, candles, outdoor stuff, for an outdoor family room, ahh…one more area to decorate, how can I complain?

Important presentation of any home in our “area” is to rep-re-sent…what does that actually mean you ask? This MomBehindTheMask can tell you it has to be done, hiding the evidence to not only the hubby, but to those prying eyes of the neighborhood ‘Gladys’ who wants to know how you do it.

How do you (me) put together that beautiful, well-put together home?  Filled with the oohs and ahhs of every house wife near by. “Your house looks so nice, ”  “where did you get that table,” “what about that bowl?”  “you must tell me who your decorator is…” So there it is, the evidence of just a few of the bags of guilt. The guilt isn’t about the actual shopping act, or at least completely, or my husband being mad. Its never telling that I shop discount.

I will shop with the elite, those women in the hood, that drive the Range Rovers, but I won’t admit that I ever, or hardly ever, pay full retail. I hunt for the sale, especially the deal. If I can get ‘Gladys’ to compliment my TJ Maxx buy, then I win, and my addiction subsides for another day.