Today, my friends, is a wonderful day. For today, I have finally been united with the great love of my life.
The past few hours have been rather poetic. My son is home with a flu, which is not in itself poetic, but has sparked off this marvellous turn of events.
Being low on food (which again, is not particularly poetic, but bear with me), I was forced to head to the supermarket, with my moderately ill son in tow. Now, many of you may remember the jacket I became infatuated with recently - the one I would have bought in an instant, were in not waaaaaaaaaaay out of my price range. Well, my darling son did too. And, on our way to the supermarket, he insisted that we stop and visit it.
"What's the point?" I asked him. "I can't afford it."
"Mum, it could have gone on sale," he told me. "You never know unless you try!"
I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had visited the jacket nearly every day for the past two weeks, and that I had been gently informed by the apologetic sales assitant that the jacket was unlikely to ever go on sale.
"Okay," I said reluctantly. We headed up the escalator.
"Kerri!" I heard a cheery voice call behind me. I looked around. It was my Twitter friend Lauren, adorable curly-haired son in tow.
"Where are you going?" she asked. "Off to visit your expensive jacket?"
Lauren was a prophet! Either that or she had been reading my Twitter updates.
"Er, yes, actually," I said. "Want to come with?"
The four of us trooped up to the shop, which I can now reveal is the absolutely magnificent pink boutique in Westfield Bondi Junction (I didn't share this information earlier as I was frightened one of you would steal the jacket. Then again, one of you might actually have bought me the jacket, but sadly, I didn't think of that until now.
The jacket was still there. I tried it on for the 750th time.
"It's gorgeous," I sighed.
"It's gorgeous," the sales assistant sighed.
"It's gorgeous," Lauren sighed. I looked at her and noticed how beautifully the jacket would go with her outfit.
"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" I asked her.
I checked the price tag again, just to make sure the jacket was still waaaaaaaaaaaaay out of my price range. As my income hadn't increased over the past week, it was.
Suddenly, the manager appeared.
"It's you again!" she said.
"It is," I sighed. (I know. I sighed a lot. What can I say? Love makes you sigh.)
She looked at me compassionately.
"You really want this jacket, don't you?"
"Like I want oxygen," I sighed. "Is it going on sale?"
She smiled at me. "Let me see what I can do."
My heart leaped. My son gripped my hand. We waited for the news.
"I can take 15% off," she told me. "That makes it still extremely expensive, but not as prohibitively expensive as it was. What do you say?" (Okay, so I'm paraphrasing a bit, but that was the general idea.)
"I'll say YES!" I said, and bought my beloved jacket.
So that's the end of the story. And it may only have ended forty minutes ago, but I can assure you:
The jacket and I lived happily ever after.