I was at the mall, and I had my parrot with me. The parrot wore a diaper, and I carried her snug against my upper chest and shoulder, with one hand cradling the parrot’s diapered, er, bottom.
The parrot and I entered a shoe store, and I found a shoe I wanted to try on—it was black, a sort of sporty, casual style, I think. I gave it to the saleswoman, who was blond and disdainful. Maybe she didn’t like her customers to waltz in carrying parrots, diapered or otherwise. She returned with a shoebox and walked away, and I realized that she’d brought me the wrong pair: the shoes in the box were strappy-dressy, patent leather, open-toed. The only thing they had in common with the ones I’d requested was their color, black.
I became inordinately huffy and approached the saleswoman. I dropped one of the wrong shoes at her feet, far too dramatically; it rolled over and wobbled, and immediately I felt stupid for making a scene but I had to follow through. “You brought me the WRONG SHOES,” I hissed.
She replied — something suitably disdainful and dismissive, I can’t remember. I think she argued with me, and I pointed to the display with the correct shoe. I’m sure I was blushing. There was nothing left to do but make a grand exit. I left with a feeble attempt at a sarcastic stinger—”Thanks SO much for all your help”—and my parrot and I made our escape into the bright expanse of mall-dom. Except that it wasn’t an escape, because then we became stuck in one of those situations where you can’t find your way out, you’re running out of time, etc. You know what I mean? So that was happening, my parrot and I were trapped in the mall, and then I looked at my parrot and saw that her face resembled rather closely that of…a baby. My baby.
OH MY F-ING GOD WHAT DID I DO WITH THE BABY? And I remembered that I’d had my baby with me too, along with my diapered parrot, only I had apparently left the baby somewhere over the course of the shopping trip. At the Gap? The Great American Cookie? Macy’s? I had zero recollection, and I was overcome by that lightheaded, blood-pressure-spiking kind of total panic, for a split second.
And then I woke up.
(True whereabouts of the baby? Napping on the bed inches from my face, the only way she would nap today.)
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