When the tree’s only 4’11”, the apple doesn’t stand a chance at falling very far
I just had this phone conversation with my mother:
Me: Hey Mom. What’s new?
Mom: I’m driving home from the dentist. I bought a custom-made teeth-whitening system! It was $850. Don’t tell your father.
Me: Oh, that’s nothing. I’m thinking about buying $2,000 worth of laser hair removal! It’s on sale this month for 30 percent off!
Mom: Good for you! I might get my face rejuvenated! It’s only $500 for my frown lines! Hey, did you try those veggie burgers I told you about? The ones with the pineapple?
Me: No, I’m waiting till they go on sale.
Mom: I think I have a coupon. I’ll mail it to you.
Me: Nah, that’s OK. Don’t waste the stamp.
The lesson: I come from thrifty stock, but we spare no expense on the really important things in life. Like our looks. And the hue of our teeth. And defying our age. And achieving baldness in places that aren’t our heads. And rebuilding Haiti, because that’s kind of a big deal. Although baldness on my head is starting to seem more and more appealing, because the salon I go to in Harvard Square recently raised its prices. C’mon, $60 for a wash and trim? Plus tip? Are you kidding me? When I consistently arrive late for appointments with my hair pulled back messily in a ponytail and wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a T-shirt caked in cat fur with the logo of a state school in Ohio, do I really look like the kind of woman who won’t have a mustache by the time she’s 35 and can afford to spend any more money on taming her freakishly overstimulated follicles? Yeah, I didn’t think so.