dressing rooms

I just spent the day at Old Navy. When I say I just spent the DAY there that is exactly what I mean. I was in toe with my nieces and nephew and sister-in-law. We were in search of a girl’s skirt and sweater which the Old Navy stores in town, all 4 of them, would graciously put on hold, but would not ship, anywhere. We went to two different Old Navy’s that were in the suburbs and then way in the suburbs. We went in search of children’s clothes. I came out with two pairs of pants, a sweater, and two jackets.

My four-year-old niece accompanied me to the dressing rooms where I made her close her eyes while I changed. “I’ll just stare at the ceiling,” she’d say. Then I’d tell her she could look and she’d exclaim with delight, “Oh Annie, you’re soooooo beautiful!” Even when the pants were so long that I walked on the fabric and the pants were so tight that the pockets buckled, “They’re beautiful,” she’d say. And then I tried on a skirt that was entirely too small. So small that I didn’t even attempt to zip it, but the fabric was gorgeous and luxurious like fancy curtains, which I realize is a strange thing to wear as a skirt, but that’s what I thought of. “It’s so beautiful,” said my niece. “But G., it doesn’t fit. Look, I can’t even zip it up,” and I pointed to the spread zipper. “That doesn’t matter. It looks so pretty,” she exclaimed. I just smiled and loved her and wished the world were that simple.