Buy Words : A Family of Mostly Non-Shoppers Copes as Best It Can

The world is basically divided into two camps: shoppers and non-shoppers. Shopping appears to be an outgrowth of early man’s bartering system and is not necessarily a skill or curiosity humans naturally possess. The shopping gene may very well be a recessive one, explaining why, in our household, with two non-shopping parents, we have produced three non-shoppers and one shopper.

Adding variables to the shopping phenomenon such as amount of currency to be exhausted, items required and time allotment adds considerably to the complexity of the endeavor. Shopping with or for children increases the task logarithmically.

In this current climate of political candidates referencing “family issues,” when I have been queried as to what I really want to see in a presidential or congressional candidate, I have presented several scenarios. I am seeking a candidate who can leave the workplace at 5 o’clock, pick up two preschoolers at the day care center, stop in at the grocery store to pick up a few needed items for dinner at 6, and effectively placate the one child who whines for candy in the checkout aisle.

Or give me a candidate who can skillfully explain to a 14-year-old girl in the section of the department store playing annoying videos and music why the outfit she craves is inappropriate for school.

As a veteran non-shopper, I shop only out of necessity, never for more than an hour, and eliminate as many variables as possible. For example, this week, the 18-year-old, a non-shopper, needed bedding and towels for college. “Get anything,” he moaned.

“In that case,” the 12-year-old, a shopper, chimed in, “why can’t he just take some of the towels and sheets from home and let us have some new stuff.”

As it turned it, the college student specifically wanted flannel sheets and required the “extra-long single variety” that fit dormitory beds. I called three stores to determine if they had extra-long single sheets in flannel before we set out on this venture. Only one store carried what he wanted.

Once in the store, the clerk asked my son what the “color scheme” for his room was to be. Color scheme for a dormitory room? I suggested that his “scheme” was “inexpensive and least likely to bleed in the wash when he mixed dark colors with whites.” Moreover, his “scheme” was “bedding colors that were less apt to show pizza and soda pop stains and mildew resulting from wet towels being left on the bed.”

Actually, the college-bound male handled the shopping trip so well that he was motivated to purchase two sweaters and two shirts. Additionally, I purchased an iron as an indication to his yet unknown roommate’s parents, should they help their son move into the room, that our son was raised in a home with “good standards.” (The iron’s usage will no doubt be minimal.)

Getting this non-shopping 18-year-old organized for college in the Midwest has not been an effortless task. In the spring, noting that heavy coats and boots were on sale, I insisted that he make some purchases as I was not going to pay full price in November. He reluctantly bought a coat and snow boots, telling me that my concerns were an overreaction. “How cold could it get in the Midwest anyway?” asked this established Southern Californian.

To be truthful, shopping for this child has never been an easy task. Somewhat active, he was able to wear holes in the knees of pants with record speed. Pants that I put aside as “good pants” were frequently outgrown in a period of three months. Expensive sneakers wore no longer than inexpensive ones.

In two instances, I found methods of coping with his rapid growth in shopping for “dress clothes.” A kind merchant in a men’s clothing store, one of four boys in a family, shared that his mother always bought dress shoes 1 1/2 sizes too big and inserted three insoles. As the year progressed and the foot size grew, she would extract a liner. I adopted that method.

On another occasion, when this son was 10 and growing very quickly, I chanced upon a tremendous sale for sport coats and purchased two--one for the current year and another for the subsequent year. The only slip came when he hurriedly grabbed a coat before getting in the car to attend a memorial service for his beloved violin teacher, Mr. Silberman.

As he donned the sport coat before entering the service, he realized he had grabbed “next year’s size.” As he stood in a coat much too large for his 10-year-old frame, he chuckled, “Oh, Mr. Silberman would find this so funny.”

Like any normal family, we have had our share of “absolutely atrocious outfits.” We, too, have had our moments when we prayed that we would only encounter strangers on our family outings. From the onset, our children showed a flair for dressing. In preschool, our oldest daughter relished wearing the slips her grandmother sent her on the outside of dresses. “Why hide such pretty lace?” she told us.

I believe that in order for a child to fully develop, a parent must allow for a few “absolutely atrocious outfits,” and my experience has been that the affection for them diminishes more readily if accompanied by a suppression of disdain on the part of the parent. A photograph of the child in the outfit can also add to family reunions in subsequent years.

Basically, I have encouraged our children to shop only in those stores that allow one to return merchandise for the full cash value. This gives them, as well as the parent, some means of control. We save all receipts and put them in an envelope marked with the month and calendar year. This has proven to be a good lesson in shopping when the merchandise fails to meet standards.

Lastly, because we are basically a family of non-shoppers, I limit access to a certain “membership-only store” which is known for values. This store is much too great a stimulus for we non-shoppers.

On occasion, when greatly in need of a certain item, I have made the grave error of taking my spouse or a teen-ager with me to this store. The result has been painfully expensive and emotionally draining.