I hadn’t expected it really.
But it is that time of year, and of course, there it was.
The Back-to-School sale.
Now, my son is still in preschool, so I had planned on carrying over into fall the majority of his summer clothing. Because where I live, you can wear shorts during the day well into October and sometimes November. But, he had the nerve to go through a growth spurt just at the wrong time. I scolded him on the way over to the store. “Don’t you know,” I glared at him through the rear-view mirror “that you are only allowed to grow when the weather has changed? No more growing in the off-season, Mister!”
When we arrived, I begin looking through the racks, and suddenly, I was no longer aware of my surroundings. My son could have climbed out of his stroller and attempted to hitchhike his way across the state, and I would have been none the wiser.
The colors and styles of the clothes began to blur, all I could comprehend was that they were 60% off.
And before I knew it, I was standing there with six shirts, four pairs of shorts, a sweater, and a waffled long sleeved Henley.
Nervously, I looked across the rack and saw another mother clutching even more clothes than me. Her breathing was shallow, and she looked as if she didn’t know exactly where she was.
We had both fallen victim to what experts like to term the “Sale Induced Trance” or SIT for short. SIT gives us the ability to sort through dozens of items placed in the wrong section with lightning speed. It also gives us an almost superhuman ability to work out proper percentages in our brains, even if we have to use a calculator to tip at a restaurant.
By some stroke of fortune or perhaps just too much caffeine, I was able to shake off the effects of SIT. Because even though the Ralph Lauren shirt was only six bucks, it was pink, orange and blue. Even Mr. Lauren can’t make me purchase something so badly color-coordinated. I put it back on the rack to join its fellow ugly brethren, of which there were more than just a few.
At the checkout register, I caught a glimpse of that same orange, pink and blue combination. It was my fellow shopper. I sighed and walked out of the store. SIT had claimed yet another victim.
Woman exhibiting a classic SIT symptom: the glassy-eyed stare