I dont know what possessed us to do it. But we went to the shopping centre today.
For my part in the fiasco, I was looking for a new pair of bathers (yes I know stupid thing to try and do as winter is upon us and the stores are full of winter clothing and there’s hardly any togs to be found) and for the guys? Well they were there doing what every other male in town was doing today… racing around like headless chooks trying to find something… anything… to buy for their mothers – for tomorrow is Mother’s Day.
The centre was full of somewhat harried, slightly desperate looking Dads who were herding small children around in a manner quite obviously unfamiliar to them… which means it felt like there was ten times more unrestrained and unruly children around than usual. Though in truth I doubt their numbers were increased, they were just running amok for Dads unaccustomed to having to venture abroad with small children underfoot!
Back when I worked in retail while I was at Uni I remember quite vividly the reluctance and slight fear these men had about them. They are a not uncommon breed of men who let their womenfolk do all their gift shopping for them. Which means that they themselves only hit the shops approximately three times per year – Mother’s Day, the Missus’ Birthday and their Wedding Anniversaries (if they know what’s good for them).
My Dad was one of ‘those’ men who used to leave all the gift giving in the family up to my Mum. She’d take care of all the Christmas presents and Birthday presents year round for her family and his. Mum was the one who’d also be stuck doing all the obligatory ‘occasion’ gift shopping as well – you know the engagements, weddings, house warmings, graduations and all those other Hallmark fucking occasions that require the giving of superfluous and often unwanted gifts. And my Dad would either A) con his daughters into selecting a gift for Mum on his behalf at Christmas and on her Birthday* or B) have to suck it up and face the shops twice a year.
I remember once when I was working at the Disney Store at Garden City and my Dad turned up there on Christmas Eve during his lunch break. He’d come out shopping for a gift for my mother and had managed to find something he thought she would like and just before he left the shopping centre he popped in to see me at work… because he couldn’t find the carpark he’d parked his car in! Unfamiliarity with the often convoluted car parks – a sure sign of a Hallmark Shopper if I ever saw one!
*Personally I think Mum was happy to have us girls choosing gifts for her from Dad… his track record wasn’t great – one year he gave her a lawn mower for her birthday!.