Just to refresh your memory if need be: Part 3 of 5

My mom had directed me to pocket number 4, this money was in a pocket of a heavy leopard print winter jacket, the jacket was in the middle of her jackets on her side of the wardrobe. There was a lot of money in this pocket. The instruction was however to get R200 from this pocket. My mom did not think I was capable of spending money, I am a saver, I also do the multiple pockets thing now, not with physical cash though.

My mom did not bother explain the importance of this money, she just told me how much to take and lock her doors after that. Well I didn’t, mainly because her bathroom had a bathtub and ours had a shower. I wanted to treat myself to nice long baths, first mistake. This just meant that every time I opened her door to take a bath, I would be reminded of the gold mine “pocket number 4”.

The first few days it was just a reminder that the money was there. Then it was “I wonder if I can get more of that money, then it was they are having fun with my grandparents and the rest of the family, maybe I should get me and my bro some nice clothes, we always got Christmas clothes. But this year we hadn’t, so I thought well that was most probably the money mom was going to use when she came back to get us Christmas clothes, that were practically owed to us. So I decided I would take over and do the shopping. The first day I took like a quarter of the money and bought stuff just for myself (my brother had pissed me off). I saw a lot of other nice clothes and thought maybe I can spoil myself just a little more. So the next day I took the second quarter and bought more clothes for me.

Then it dawned on me, I’m just being selfish buying clothes just for me, let me buy stuff for my brother too, so I did. When I got home that day my brother and I were best friends, firstly because he had the tv all day to himself and secondly because I had bought him clothes. I took a break, I didn’t think I would go shopping again, but that money was talking to me, it kept on calling my name, it got louder each day….LOL.

The third shopping day was the final straw, I took the remainder of the money, when I was about to leave the house I then thought maybe I should leave a few notes, I went back and returned like R300. I walked into town to do my final shopping, I had thought to myself well, my sister is with my parents but she didn’t get clothes either so let me hook her up with a cute little dress and other things. Shopping was so nice, it felt good to have so much money, I didn’t worry much about prices, and it was therapeutic. If you take me back to that time, I could shop for a living and have an amazing career, right now, I only go shopping when I need to.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s why i’m not a shopperholic now. My parents had not told me they were coming that day.

Ababalele, trouble, trouble, trouble

We continue next week

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