It's hard to believe that a month ago today we arrived home with Maylia. After being with her for a month, and being so at hem here, it's even harder to believe that she hasn't been with us for the past two + years.
As a rather unlikely way to celebrate this anniversary we had a visit to the International Adoption Clinic and a visit with a Social Worker. We went to the International Clinic as her first follow-up appointment, to assess where she's at developmentally and medically. We met with the Social Worker to see where she's at socially and emotionally.
At the international clinic we were able to meet with the same physician who had reviewed her file for us in May when we were first matched with Maylia. All the doctor had to go from then was Maylia's (translated) Chinese medical file and 3 photographs. At that time her assessment raised a couple of questions, but mostly calmed our concerns as some of the tests she looked at indicated better results than first thought.
Today's news was even better. Though Maylia was pretty upset and angry during the appointment, both we and the doctor were happy to see how well she has been doing. Although she will still be referred to get an EKG (to check for the initially diagnosed hole in her heart) the doctor told us that had it not been listed other file, she would never had even thought there was a heart problem. Not only was she growing, but her developmental percentile measurements were consistent ( i.e.. 20th percentile for height, weight and head circumference) -- a very healthy indicator. As we told the doctor about her eating and sleeping patterns, she was amazed how well Maylia seemed to be doing for only a month. We received a bunch of requisitions for blood work, stool and urine samples ( things Todd doesn't pay me enough to collect ) so we still have a ways to go before she's declared out of the woods but so far we have an incredibly happy, incredibly healthy, 2 yr old girl. Amazing.
The next appointment at the clinic was with the OT where things went from great to better than great. By this time Maylia was back to her happy self ( to be fair, the doctor was trying to examine her at nap time) and with the OT, well, all we really have to do is play.
With the doctor Maylia screamed and screamed and screamed - took a breath - and screamed some more. By the second appointment the second wind had kicked in and there were balls and books and bottles with lids, her favourite. She performed every test and task with relative ease, and between those -- she just performed. Would you believe on the play mat Maylia began to do somersaults. Seriously. Somersaults. In a fit of giggles as she flipped over on to her back. Our other kids are blessed with talents and intelligence -- but I'm pretty sure none of them can do a somersault . The OT checked her fine motor and and her gross motor skills. 'Can she run?' ( Sometimes faster than she has strength). 'Can she hop?' (we performed her favourite sleeping bunnies song'). 'Can she throw?'( Our problem is to get her to stop throwing.) Yes, she can definitely throw. Over an hour later -- three hours total with both appointments -- we were discharged with high marks from both assessments with a plan to return in a couple of months time.
The evening included a visit from a Social Worker, from Adoption Options, the agency that had helped us complete our home study. Anyone who adopts internationally is required to complete "Post-Placement Reports" -- formal assessments to see how a child is transitioning. Different countries have different requirements. China requires 5 -- at 1 month, 6 months, a year, 3 years and 5 years. I should have known better than to suppose that once the adoption is completed that reports and paperwork were finished as well. More questions, more forms and another 15 page document. As I've said before, adoption - especially international adoption - is not for the faint of heart. But this is what we signed up for and a few forms is a very small price to pay for the gift we get in Maylia.
The Social Worker asked many of the same questions we had addressed earlier that day. Like the doctor and the OT she too was amazed and impressed at how well Maylia seemed to be doing and how smoothly her transition was going . She didn't have to ask how well Maylia could throw ( Maylia demonstrated) , if she was happy ( Maylia giggled continuously) or how her fine and gross motor skills were as, almost on cue, Maylia began doing somersaults on the floor. It was Operation Shock and Awe.
Some might argue that in going from an orphanage to the Shipley home Maylia has merely moved from one Institution to another. Either way this incredible little girl seems to be not just surviving, but genuinely thriving in this little home, amongst this odd little family. Sure, we have our flaws, and our skeletons have their closets. Our dysfunction and failures often out weigh the times we function and succeed. But charity never faileth and the love we have and hold for her more than makes up for our many Shipley shortcomings.
Monday, January 20, 2014
No Place Like Home
She's at her most happy while eating or in the bath
She's at her most cantankerous when going down for her nap or at bedtime
She's at her most charming when she's teasing her Daddy or her brothers
She's at her most fun when playing with her sister
She's at her most hilarious when she knows she has an audience watching
She's at her most content -- when she's here.
There's no place like home
She's at her most cantankerous when going down for her nap or at bedtime
She's at her most charming when she's teasing her Daddy or her brothers
She's at her most fun when playing with her sister
She's at her most hilarious when she knows she has an audience watching
She's at her most content -- when she's here.
There's no place like home
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Friday, December 20 - Tender Mercies
If you just looked at our clocks, this was a delightfully brief voyage -- we departed Beijing at 6:30p.m. on Friday and arrived on our Edmonton doorstep Friday night at 8. Funny how an hour and a half can feel like 22 hours.
But despite the time, the trouble, and Maylia's seatbelt trauma we had experienced a 'multitude of tender mercies' , to borrow a phrase from Lehi.
So stressed and anxious about the trip home, through my prayers and desperation I had decided to fast before we left Beijing-- as much as our circumstances permitted it. It's not that the Lord wouldn't have answered my prayers only, but I knew through experience that fasting as well as praying would allow me to more easily recognize and respond to the Spirits promptings and to feel His assurances more keenly. Like fine tuning a radio dial to zero in on a signal.
I prayed for those assurances and those assurances came -- though not in the way that I expected.
At the last General Conference Elder David Bednar spoke about the 'significant but subtle blessings that come as we pay the law of tithing' - that though we might not get exactly what we pray for, the Lord gives us exactly what we need:
" Sometimes we may ask God for success, and He gives us physical and mental stamina. We might plead for prosperity, and we receive enlarged perspective and increased patience, or we petition for growth and are blessed with the gift of grace. He may bestow upon us conviction and confidence as we strive to achieve worthy goals. And when we plead for relief from physical, mental, and spiritual difficulties, He may increase our resolve and resilience."
Like the payment of tithing, my fast was a small but significant sacrifice that the Lord blessed me for. But instead of an easy trip or a content 2 year old, he gave me kind and patient fellow travellers -- even as they were wiping the salad from them. He gave me a husband who provided endless assistance and sound advice who could calmly state 'if she cries she cries, who cares what people think' -- putting things quickly into perspective. He gave me the ability to creatively entertain Maylia when she was awake, the endurance to hold and rock her when she was asleep or carry her throughout a busy airport. He gave us competent officials, a delayed flight -- and did I mention the cutest, most incredible, feisty, funny two year old? Too many tender mercies to count. And all in an hour and a half.
We were blessed indeed.
But despite the time, the trouble, and Maylia's seatbelt trauma we had experienced a 'multitude of tender mercies' , to borrow a phrase from Lehi.
So stressed and anxious about the trip home, through my prayers and desperation I had decided to fast before we left Beijing-- as much as our circumstances permitted it. It's not that the Lord wouldn't have answered my prayers only, but I knew through experience that fasting as well as praying would allow me to more easily recognize and respond to the Spirits promptings and to feel His assurances more keenly. Like fine tuning a radio dial to zero in on a signal.
I prayed for those assurances and those assurances came -- though not in the way that I expected.
At the last General Conference Elder David Bednar spoke about the 'significant but subtle blessings that come as we pay the law of tithing' - that though we might not get exactly what we pray for, the Lord gives us exactly what we need:
" Sometimes we may ask God for success, and He gives us physical and mental stamina. We might plead for prosperity, and we receive enlarged perspective and increased patience, or we petition for growth and are blessed with the gift of grace. He may bestow upon us conviction and confidence as we strive to achieve worthy goals. And when we plead for relief from physical, mental, and spiritual difficulties, He may increase our resolve and resilience."
Like the payment of tithing, my fast was a small but significant sacrifice that the Lord blessed me for. But instead of an easy trip or a content 2 year old, he gave me kind and patient fellow travellers -- even as they were wiping the salad from them. He gave me a husband who provided endless assistance and sound advice who could calmly state 'if she cries she cries, who cares what people think' -- putting things quickly into perspective. He gave me the ability to creatively entertain Maylia when she was awake, the endurance to hold and rock her when she was asleep or carry her throughout a busy airport. He gave us competent officials, a delayed flight -- and did I mention the cutest, most incredible, feisty, funny two year old? Too many tender mercies to count. And all in an hour and a half.
We were blessed indeed.
Friday, December 20 -- Welcome To Canada
Because Vancouver was our first touchdown point in Canada, we would have to report to customs and then to immigration there. Despite the extra expense, we had opted for a Friday flight, mostly because it gave us a two hour layover in Vancouver rather than a 9 hour one we would have had had we booked a flight on Saturday.
But because Vancouver was experiencing some severe weather, causing the delays and cancellation of hundreds of flights, we were worried we wouldn't make our connection to Edmonton. Not only were we delayed in taking off, the weather caused us to wait an extra half an hour on the ground while they cleared our gate of ice and snow. The gods were testing me.
We finally disembarked , got through our first customs point, found our bags and moved onto immigration. We were thrilled to bypass the student and work-visa line and arrive first at the desk indicating 'New Immigrants To Canada'. The man there was extremely friendly and helpful but his job was more 'Welcome Wagon' than any official capacity as he orientated us to what we would need to do and apply for once we returned to Alberta. We in fact did have to go back to the line-up of students and temporary foreign workers and meet with an immigration officer there.
We told the man how soon our next flight was leaving and he said he would try to get us to the front of the line. " It kind of depends on what mood they're in", he whispered.
I looked over at the two stern faced immigration officers. They made Todd look like a ray of sunshine.
There's an episode of Seinfeld where Elaine finds herself on the subway during rush hour delays and power outages. As she stands between unsavoury sorts, desperately wanting to get where she's going, the viewer is treated to the inner dialogue of her mind. The fun and the funny come as you listen to her go from yoga chanting life affirming mantras, to bleeped out , full on screaming in her head. I was experiencing a little of that at that moment. I won't tell you which bit.
We waited.And Waited. And Waited. Until gratefully it was our turn. Credit again to the Chinese and to Children's Bridge as our documents processed without a hitch.
We grabbed our bags and ran as fast as we could, hoping to make it to our gate. Then deadlock. With so many cancelled and delayed flights there was a bottle neck both exiting the customs / baggage area and going through the next security checkpoint. Why they had only one -- ONE -- security screen for the hundreds of transiting passengers was beyond us. Cue more screaming inside my head.
This entire time Maylia had been extraordinarily good tempered but was getting pretty icky. We hadn't wanted to stop at all until we reached our gate, so she had been marinating in her diaper for a while . It was quickly developing a sponge-like consistency and would seep every time she would shift in my arms. I was getting pretty icky too.
While in line we had heard that our flight had been delayed and we made an Amazing Race like dash to our gate after the snail-like pace of the security check point.
10 minutes until boarding time -- enough time for a change.
One more tearful seatbelt wrestle with one more flight -- a mercifully short one this time. And once she was able to leave her seat she fell asleep in my arms and I kept her there until we landed.
No Customs this time. No security or immigration. Just grab our bags and go.
I've never been so thankful to see snow covered streets in my life.
But because Vancouver was experiencing some severe weather, causing the delays and cancellation of hundreds of flights, we were worried we wouldn't make our connection to Edmonton. Not only were we delayed in taking off, the weather caused us to wait an extra half an hour on the ground while they cleared our gate of ice and snow. The gods were testing me.
We finally disembarked , got through our first customs point, found our bags and moved onto immigration. We were thrilled to bypass the student and work-visa line and arrive first at the desk indicating 'New Immigrants To Canada'. The man there was extremely friendly and helpful but his job was more 'Welcome Wagon' than any official capacity as he orientated us to what we would need to do and apply for once we returned to Alberta. We in fact did have to go back to the line-up of students and temporary foreign workers and meet with an immigration officer there.
We told the man how soon our next flight was leaving and he said he would try to get us to the front of the line. " It kind of depends on what mood they're in", he whispered.
I looked over at the two stern faced immigration officers. They made Todd look like a ray of sunshine.
There's an episode of Seinfeld where Elaine finds herself on the subway during rush hour delays and power outages. As she stands between unsavoury sorts, desperately wanting to get where she's going, the viewer is treated to the inner dialogue of her mind. The fun and the funny come as you listen to her go from yoga chanting life affirming mantras, to bleeped out , full on screaming in her head. I was experiencing a little of that at that moment. I won't tell you which bit.
We waited.And Waited. And Waited. Until gratefully it was our turn. Credit again to the Chinese and to Children's Bridge as our documents processed without a hitch.
We grabbed our bags and ran as fast as we could, hoping to make it to our gate. Then deadlock. With so many cancelled and delayed flights there was a bottle neck both exiting the customs / baggage area and going through the next security checkpoint. Why they had only one -- ONE -- security screen for the hundreds of transiting passengers was beyond us. Cue more screaming inside my head.
This entire time Maylia had been extraordinarily good tempered but was getting pretty icky. We hadn't wanted to stop at all until we reached our gate, so she had been marinating in her diaper for a while . It was quickly developing a sponge-like consistency and would seep every time she would shift in my arms. I was getting pretty icky too.
While in line we had heard that our flight had been delayed and we made an Amazing Race like dash to our gate after the snail-like pace of the security check point.
10 minutes until boarding time -- enough time for a change.
One more tearful seatbelt wrestle with one more flight -- a mercifully short one this time. And once she was able to leave her seat she fell asleep in my arms and I kept her there until we landed.
No Customs this time. No security or immigration. Just grab our bags and go.
I've never been so thankful to see snow covered streets in my life.
Friday, December 20 -- Journey To The West
The 5 years it took to adopt a child felt like an eternity.
Our 12 hour flight from Beijing to Vancouver felt infinitely longer.
As excited as I was to get home, I had been dreading this flight for much longer than we had been in China. Before we left Edmonton I had come across a news article that had identified a list of 'Airplane Don'ts For Travelers'. Two and a half hours into our flight we had committed most of them. Tantrums, screaming, kicking the seat in front of us, and during our mid-flight meal: tossing a container of salad -- which opened and dumped its contents -- into the seats ( and onto the occupants) in front of us.
Now I had never been under any illusions that this flight would be easy. Whenever I listened to a child upset on an airplane or heard of a parent's difficult air travel experience I always felt great sympathy for them.
Now I felt empathy.
The biggest challenge for us was the seatbelt. No car seats in China meant that she always traveled on our laps. And to facilitate her eating we also kept her on our laps during mealtimes so her experiences of sitting independently were extremely limited. As we boarded the plane in Beijing and sat in our seats with her between us we tried to lure her into her own chair. I was just anxious to get going and get it over with but we were delayed on the ground for almost an hour so she was already extremely restless when we tried to wrestle her into her seat. It took two of us to pin her down and we held her, screaming until we finally took off. After about 15-20 minutes ( considerably longer for those sitting around us) she wore herself out and, to her credit, resigned herself to her confinement. Boy was she mad.
When the seatbelt light finally switched off she literally leapt onto my lap and stayed there, tossing, turning, twisting, jumping, kicking, straining until mealtime where she actually sat in her seat again for at least a little while. After the food flinging incident I kept her as close to me as possible, trying to avoid eye contact with the family in front of us. Let's just say it would have been a lot easier for us if the little family of three -- cute couple with an even cuter baby -- weren't so darn charming and perfect. That baby hardly peeped the entire flight as if we didn't look bad enough already.
I confess to being secretly relieved when I'd hear another child crying somewhere on the plane.
Deep down I'm a very shallow person.
By 9 we were hoping she'd go to sleep and it took a few more tears, a lot of tossing, twisting and turning before she finally settled down. Mercifully she slept for about 5 hours -- fitfully -- but slept nonetheless. She awoke in good spirits for breakfast and I've never been so grateful for airplane food in my life -- they served congee.
Nearly 12 hours later we were back to where we started, wrestling her into her seat and belt.
Tantrum, tears, then finally, touch down.
Our 12 hour flight from Beijing to Vancouver felt infinitely longer.
As excited as I was to get home, I had been dreading this flight for much longer than we had been in China. Before we left Edmonton I had come across a news article that had identified a list of 'Airplane Don'ts For Travelers'. Two and a half hours into our flight we had committed most of them. Tantrums, screaming, kicking the seat in front of us, and during our mid-flight meal: tossing a container of salad -- which opened and dumped its contents -- into the seats ( and onto the occupants) in front of us.
Now I had never been under any illusions that this flight would be easy. Whenever I listened to a child upset on an airplane or heard of a parent's difficult air travel experience I always felt great sympathy for them.
Now I felt empathy.
The biggest challenge for us was the seatbelt. No car seats in China meant that she always traveled on our laps. And to facilitate her eating we also kept her on our laps during mealtimes so her experiences of sitting independently were extremely limited. As we boarded the plane in Beijing and sat in our seats with her between us we tried to lure her into her own chair. I was just anxious to get going and get it over with but we were delayed on the ground for almost an hour so she was already extremely restless when we tried to wrestle her into her seat. It took two of us to pin her down and we held her, screaming until we finally took off. After about 15-20 minutes ( considerably longer for those sitting around us) she wore herself out and, to her credit, resigned herself to her confinement. Boy was she mad.
When the seatbelt light finally switched off she literally leapt onto my lap and stayed there, tossing, turning, twisting, jumping, kicking, straining until mealtime where she actually sat in her seat again for at least a little while. After the food flinging incident I kept her as close to me as possible, trying to avoid eye contact with the family in front of us. Let's just say it would have been a lot easier for us if the little family of three -- cute couple with an even cuter baby -- weren't so darn charming and perfect. That baby hardly peeped the entire flight as if we didn't look bad enough already.
I confess to being secretly relieved when I'd hear another child crying somewhere on the plane.
Deep down I'm a very shallow person.
By 9 we were hoping she'd go to sleep and it took a few more tears, a lot of tossing, twisting and turning before she finally settled down. Mercifully she slept for about 5 hours -- fitfully -- but slept nonetheless. She awoke in good spirits for breakfast and I've never been so grateful for airplane food in my life -- they served congee.
Nearly 12 hours later we were back to where we started, wrestling her into her seat and belt.
Tantrum, tears, then finally, touch down.
Thursday, December 19 -- Duck Dynasty
We knew we were going out for Peking duck but didn’t realize what a gastronomical adventure we would be enjoying.
We walked to the restaurant as it was just a couple of blocks from our hotel. It was an older building but we could see from the outside that the place was packed. We went in and were led to a large round table covered in plates and glassware, no plastic ikea cutlery in sight. They brought us a baby chair but we weren’t sure how Maylia would do as she had always resisted sitting anywhere but my lap. We formed a plan and appealed to her always eager appetite -- placing some goldfish snacks on the tray before we put her in. She was definitely nervous and began to reach and whine but we smiled and talked to her and I kept as close to her as I could. Not only had she not argued when we put her mittens on earlier but now she was now sitting quite happily in a high chair. Another milestone reached.
Joan took the encyclopedic-like menu and went over it with one of the waiters. As she ordered most everything on her own without really asking us any preferences I was admittedly a little nervous. Moments later they brought us a bowl of petite mandarin oranges dramatically nestled on top of a bowl of dry ice, and, not a few moments after that, our dishes began to arrive. There was a colourful combination of vegetable and meat dishes -- chicken with peanuts and chilies, sauteed lettuce, corn with chopped red and green peppers, and a heaping bowl of black things that looked like a fungus and tasted like a pickled rubber mushroom. It actually felt squeaky when you bit into it. The main dishes were the noodles and the Peking duck, both special dishes here in Beijing. They brought out our duck already sliced though at most of the other tables a chef carved the duck right at the table. The duck was presented with portioned plates for each person with a mixture of vegetables, sauces, and spices. Small round shells, (think of a tortilla made from a wonton wrapper) sat in a bamboo steamer and you would take one on to your plate and then fill it, fajita style, with whatever customized combination your palate preferred. The noodles were the same way -- served plain but accompanied by a a personal plate of more sauces and vegetables.
The dinner was absolutely delicious but we were even more pleased with Maylia who sat quite contentedly in her chair while eating rice and corn from a wooden bowl they had brought her. As we had had only one utensil thrown across the table, and neither Todd nor I had ended up covered in food, for us the night felt like a quacking success.
Thursday, December 19 -- Shopping on Silk Street
This was it. Our last day in Beijing. Our last day in China for that matter. It was good to be at the end though at the same time, hard to believe all that had happened in the past 2 weeks. Two weeks ago we didn’t even really know who this little girl was and what she was about and now could not even begin to imagine life without her --or that we were were without her she seemed so ingrained in us already. I’ve had to laugh as more than a few times this week Todd keeps calling her Sophia. You know she’s a natural part of the family when she’s already getting mixed up with other kids’ names.
There was nothing formal or official on today’s schedule. Most of the other families from Canada we had met were going home today and we wondered why our flights hadn’t been scheduled until Friday. We presumed it was to allow an extra day just in case the Canadian Embassy took longer to process Maylia’s Visa. Thankfully it had come through so today was simply fun -- shopping at Silk Street and Peking Duck for dinner.
Joan met us down in the lobby along with the S and their sweet daughter L. It was interesting to see how well both girls seemed to match their families. The S’s are kind, calm -- simply lovely people. They have been such a pleasure to get to know and we hope we can keep connected in the future. Their daughter too is quiet, sweet (though they’ve said she’s also had her share of tears and tantrums )a lovely, lovely girl of 15 months. We walked past them as they too were having dinner at the buffet restaurant the other night. L sat in her highchair, not a lick of food on her tray or on the table. I asked J how she managed to keep her so clean and she said they fed her a little at a time and that she ate everything they gave her. There is something almost unreal about that level of perfection.
Contrast that with our experience in the dining room. We have rubber bibs and sippy cups, napkins on our laps and ones laid out on the table, with the wait staff having extras at the ready. We go through multiple baby wipes, not to mention utensils and side bends and we try to swoop down and pick up what’s been dropped. Because I am still serving as the baby chair she and I are both accessorized with slops and spills by the end of the meal. Simply put we are a disaster and I feel like we should tip the laundry workers as well as the wait staff following our feast.
Maylia too has morphed quickly from still and silent to precocious and playful. She can laugh as loud as she screams and loves to tease as well as to talk. How were we so lucky to get this girl.
After meeting downstairs we loaded into the van and headed off to Silk Street. Todd and I had visited Silk Street once before with his parents. It was paradise for a clothing coveter like myself. Many of the things I dared only enjoy from magazines were fond in Silk Street at prices lower than I could find at a second hand shop. Sure, some of the items were knock-offs, made to look the same with Chinese labels but they were beautifully made nonetheless and what we found more often than not, were that many of the items were from past seasons, still trendy but a couple of years old. Some even had slight flaws -- Years ago I had purchased a Burberry trench coat for 15 dollars whose button holes were too close to the edge of the lapel. Not a big deal as far as how it looks or wears, but a tremendous deal as far as the price -- a coat that would retail for about $800. So, needless to say, I was a more than a little excited to see what they had in store. We had heard that they ( whoever ‘they’ were) were cracking down on counterfeit goods so we weren’t sure what to expect. We entered the complex, looked at the directory and pledged to meet back in two hours -- only 8 hours less than I would have liked to have spent there. As we walked through the halls past various small stores -- packed full of stock and side by side each other -- we were called to by every, single shop owner -- “ Do you want to buy a t-shirt, a sweater, I have handbags at special price.” Ah yes, the special price, only for you. That was a favourite phrase.
We walked through to get a sense of the place. Each level or section was organized into shoes or clothes or handbags, ties, scarves or textiles. Once we saw the products we were interested in, the next step was to get a sense of their prices -- both what they were asking for as well as what they were willing to come down to. Once you got that, you had a number to take with you to the next place you were looking at, a number that was reasonable for both sides. We definitely wanted a good price -- we wanted a great one in fact, but as Todd said, we weren’t going to grind them down over a few dollars. Where much is given much is required and for all we enjoyed in our abundantly blessed western lives, we could happily afford to give them an extra 5 or 10 bucks -- especially when we were saving sometimes hundreds.
We stopped at a handbag store first and looked at some beautiful brand name bags. The clerk promised us ‘special price’ and punched a number into a calculator.
Mexico, Turkey, Thailand or China, they ALL have a calculator. I can never calculate Yuan to dollars fast enough but I knew enough to know that she was asking a ridiculous price -- she was testing us too. Todd quickly laughed and asked her to give us her best price. They always ask us for what we are willing to pay and Todd gave a number. She countered back and that went on for a couple of minutes before Todd said to walk away. As we did she called out another number, then a lower one, then a lower one. “ You see,” Todd said, now we know what her base is and what we can ask for at any other shop. She had a number of great bags and I said we’d come back -- knowing full well that nearly the same products and prices would be at 20 other stores.
We continued to wander in and out of shops and found a couple more we’d liked but did end up going back to that first shop. Todd went up to the girl and said, “for you, special price” and gave her a number. That disarmed her, she laughed and shook her head and put the handbag we wanted into a shopping bag. “ You broke my heart with that price” she said. “ You broke my wallet” Todd replied. She laughed again and we both left happy. She still made a lot of money and we saved even more. We paid less than $15 dollars for a beautiful leather bag.
The exchange between Todd and the clerks carried on at a few more stores, whether it was clothing, ties or handbags. They would try to talk and plead with me, and I would tell them that my husband was the bank and they need to talk to him . He was also the best bargainer. Frankly I hated bargaining and was no good at it. Todd had turned it into both a science and an art. I suppose we were a good team -- I would try on and gush over the goods so the store clerks would think they had an easy sale. Then I would step away while Todd teased them and went toe to toe with their sales pitch , counteract and catch them off guard by saying “Here is my special price” and he would stick to his amount until they met it. If they didn’t, we would walk away but they would never let us get very far before they called us back and begrudgingly took his money. “ You are very hard” one girl said. “ And your wife and baby are so nice.” Todd only smiled, pointed to me and Maylia and said, “ My wife is nice, my daughter is nice, but I ( pointing to his chest) have a teeny teeny heart!” He was both charming and cheap. There was a reason at the conclusion of our shopping spree our guide Joan said, : “My favourite part was watching Todd bargain!”
At the end of the two hours we , or should I say I, had come out very well with some lovely clothes and a couple of great bags. Other than a few ties most of the items purchased were for me or Maylia. And I have to say, I do love a husband who, when we came home and we laid the things on the bed, he smiled proudly and said, “we did very well” -- when hardly any of it was for him. He was just as happy to have gotten the things for his girls as he would have been to buy for himself.
Sorry ladies, he’s taken.
We returned home for Maylia’s nap and so we could begin to pack and prepare to meet Joan and the S’s for dinner later that evening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)