I'm a "Cool" Mom (or I'm turning into my mother)

Wednesday was Back to School Shopping Day at the Mall. For us, anyhow. My daughter, who typically doesn't care about school clothing, was searching for a very particular style of backpack. Since she allows me to pick out her clothing for the most part, I was indulging her in her desire to find this elusive book bag which we had yet to find in any other store. As we walked by one of those trendy, teeny-bopper stores with it's loud music, teensy-weensy, expensive, but worn looking T-shirts, and pricey jeans which looked like they've been dragged behind a tractor, I noticed a large selection of backpacks on the wall. I thought to myself what a cool Mom I could be for purchasing my daughter a backpack from this shop that just oozed out the seams with trendiness. ( I could stop here and explain that my parents couldn't afford to buy me cool, trendy stuff when I was a kid, and now...well, I have issues, we'll leave it at that.) So, I confidently march into this mecca of teen spirit with my family, trying hard not to focus on the fact that I'm the oldest person in there, and walk to a wall filled with Roxy and Volcom backpacks. I point out a few to my totally unimpressed daughter, hoping that one of these will be a good substitute for that most likely non-existent backpack-on-a-pedestal she has in her mind. No such luck-all of the backpacks have two straps, and she must have a one strap shoulder sling style. So, still feeling like an accommodating, cool Mom, for being so understanding about this whole thing, I confidently turn to a nearby sales girl hanging up a back pack to ask for help. Only she's not a salesgirl, just some random teenage shopper, who turns to me with a look of surprise, and says loudly, "Oh! I don't work here!". Oh, geez. To her credit, she was very sweet about it, but I'm sure she and her friends had a good giggle about it as I walked away, feeling every inch the non-cool Mom I am.
Now that I type this story, it does sound sort of non-eventful, but this is something my mother would have done that would have embarrassed me to no end. My kids are too young and unaware at this point to be embarrassed at this event, but their time will come, and I'll be there, saying or doing something Mom-like and dorky, while they cringe in embarrassment and try to sink into the floor. For some reason, that thought puts a smile on my face....