https://Voice.club - We queued outside the store, blowing on our frozen fingers. Well, me anyway. The impervious teen beside me focused on her phone. I pulled mine out to check emails while we waited. One was about JOMO, the Joy of Missing Out, and I read to forget my numb feet.
“Mum,” my daughter shoved her phone in my face, “check out these boots!” She already had seven pairs, two never worn. Deep sigh, dramatic teen eye-roll. “But none of them are green,” she said. “Besides, you’ll buy another handbag to never use, or a coat you’ll hate before summer. Boots are my thing.”
When did my child become this shopaholic? I didn’t start retail therapy until I had two babies in two years and needed an escape. It was cheaper than regular therapy and I had so much stuff to show for it.
The queue surged forward, and we entered the store. Instantly my teen disappeared, on the hunt for treasures, things we couldn’t afford but had to have because they were so cheap. As I turned towards the handbags, what she had said stopped me in my tracks. Another handbag I’d never use. How many did I already have? I had no idea.
And I realised I didn’t want another handbag, another coat, another fistful of lipsticks.
“Mum, come on!” Her hand grabbed my sleeve, dragging me into motion. “You’ve got to see these, they’re gorgeous. And they’re half price…”
I watched her drape inappropriate silky underwear over her already laden arm, and I was horrified. The monster in me recognised the monster in her.
I lifted the mass of merchandise off her arm.
“Thanks,” she muttered, reaching to grab a hoodie and hand it to me. “What? Mum - no!”
It was her turn to be horrified as I dropped her entire haul on a table, took her elbow and frog-marched her towards the exit.
“JOMO,” I mumbled.
“Mum, have you lost it? What’s JOMO?”
“That, my darling,” I replied, “is what we’re going to find out.”
