I gushed about laundry in my last post but what with the mugginess and the dunking in the sea, I was starting to get worried about my clothes situation. I have had occasion to speak before about the luggage issue with the car and I always overpack for the kids but as a corollary, always pack just exactly what I might need for myself. And like I said, I was starting to worry.
So it came as a relief to hear the girls chatting at breakfast about how it might be fun to go shopping that day. The plan was to leave the kids with the dads to play in the pool and go out all by ourselves. That was exactly as tempting as it sounds and I rushed to get ready in my brand new liva material, soft, jade green day dress. As a concession to the Goa feeling, I also braided the front of my hair in two tiny pigtails. As I swished about in front of my husband, he looked up from his kindle long enough to inform me that I looked like Asterix.
What does he know?
The girls and I got a drop off from one of the dads and got off at the Candolim (Calangute?) market and started checking things out. I am by now a wary holiday shopper. After a couple of vacations coming home to find your fabulous bargains look like what was I thinking in the cold light of day, one wises up. I did not look twice at the anglo-indian style goan dresses or the costume jewellery. What I was looking for was sand toys – the set I’d got from home was sadly depleted, a Mario Miranda tile, and something reasonable for me to wear.
The first shop we hit was selling floral tiaras. Everyone decided impromptu that we’d by for all the girls – mom and kiddos alike – and wear that evening. It was the birthday of one of our friends and we were planning to celebrate. At about 50 bucks, it was no stretch. I did see the tiles I was looking for but decided not to buy from the first shop I went to. I was looking for shorts of a decent length but they were clearly not available. The hot pants that were available were not what I wanted at all. We popped in and out of a number of stores after that and negotiated with shopkeepers, bullying and being bullied in turn. We worried over shady trial rooms, were far from reassured when informed that the stores had cctv cameras and laughed a lot. I think I’d forgotten how much fun it is to go shopping with girls! Finally, we decided we needed some liquid refreshment and stopped at Tito’s. Then over woefully underfilled glasses we started reminiscing about how we’d met our husbands. When you’ve been friends with people more than half your lives it is easy to believe them when they tell you they knew what was in the air long before you remember knowing yourself. It is so much fun to hear about arranged marriage meetings and what bowled who over. Like I said, we laughed a lot. Right after that we made our big mistake.
A couple of us had decided they’d bought enough and were wondering how to go back home, when my phone rang and my husband called to ask what we’d planned for lunch. Since we were planning to split the shopping contingent anyway we invited boys and kids alike over to join us if they were done. I don’t think Tito’s could ever have witnessed the sort of wholesale, eardrum-shattering shrieking that happened when a bunch of kids who had spent the whole morning without throwing a tantrum finally met their moms. Suffice to say our lovely chatty, giggly, reminiscy high crash landed and never made it up again.
We ate and drank lots and on the way home, I gave in and let the store fellow sell me a pair of ‘hot shorts’. I was glum faced all the way home and my hubby asked me what I was complaining about – it wasn’t everyone who could make such transitions and accomplish so much in a single day. When I asked him what he was going on about, he said well you did go out as Asterix and manage to come home as Julius Caesar!