For the record, I have done ZERO shopping on this trip. Because I packed VERY light (Bella and I are in Spain with only a single bookbag-sized backpack, and another small carryon bag is waiting for us back in Stockholm), any purchases have needed to be small, or would require an accompanying additional luggage purchase. So, for once, no new Bella clothes, no last-minute purchases of The Shoes That All the Cool Girls in Spain Are Wearing. And then:
At El Corte Inglés in Barcelona, just half an hour ago, while I was agonizing over whether to get the classic brown leather Balenciaga bag, or the hot red-orange Guy Laroche number, both HUGELY on sale:
“Mama, get the brown one.”
“But don’t you think the orange one is pretty? See how bright, and look at all these pretty buckles and belts.”
“Mama, Papa’s gonna say, ‘Where did all these bags come from?’”-- (Not entirely of her own invention, because earlier I had remarked that I had to choose between the five bags I had initially picked out, because if I brought all of them back to Beijing, Papa would say exactly that).
“Well, what if I get both, and then I buy another suitcase to put the extra bags and clothes in?”
“Mama, ONLY BUY ONE, okay? The BROWN ONE. Put that one BACK. I'd like to go home now, please.”
And with that, went back to her iPod, leaving me staring at her and wondering, WHO IS THIS KID, AND WHERE IN GOD’S NAME DID SHE COME FROM?
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