I am housewife...hear me roar!

I went to get new glasses the other day.

A Russian woman was "helping" me. ("Helping"- meaning she showed me where all the designer frames were, gestured nonchallantly to the "rest" of the frames- which I took as her thinly veiled opinion that the "rest" of the frames were utter poop, and then left me to my own defenses.)

When I had chosen my favorites, she then informed me the rimless pair I had chosen was on special that day- for only $400! *cough, cough*

"Uh... I thought you said they were on sale!" I choked out.
"Oh, dey are. Dese are designer, so you know, you vill be paying more...obviously."

I said nevermind and handed her my second pair- horn rimmed cuties, also from the "designer" rack, but on sale.

"Put zem on," she said just staring at me.

I did as she commanded. She smiled and said she approved. "Oh yes, dese look very good on you. Good choice, dese horn rimmed are very in-fashion right now."

Yes, I may be a stay-at-home mom and housewife, but I do have some idea of the going fashion right now, thank you.

I went to pick out my second pair that were NOT designer, rimless, pocket-bleeders. It only took me a few moments because I had had my eye on another pair earlier before I decided on the rimless. I grabbed them and took them up.

"I'll take these, then," I said as I put them down.

"Put zem on," she said again with a very somber expression on her face.

I obeyed. This time, no smile of approval. No nod of agreement. Just dead face.
"Hmmm... " she said as I took them off.
"Put zem back on. I vant to see again."
Ok.
"Vell... do you like zem?"
Now, I'm no idiot. I know this is her way of saying she hates them, they are not from the designer rack, they do not cost an arm and a first born child, these will NOT do, in her opinion.
However, I am confident enough in my choice. I like thise simpler, more understated, cheaper pair.
"Yes. I do like them. I think they have a classic look. I'll take them!"
"Hmm.... put zem back on again."
I hessitated before doing it this time. She was trying to let me know she knew better than I what looks good, but I had to strongly disagree. After all, she had horrible orange-blonde hair from a bottle. How good could her taste be?
But I put them back on.
"Hmm.....vell, ok, den."

So, I pick up my new glasses today. Maybe I'll post pictures. Maybe the russian mafia will come after me for not capitulating. Maybe I will hang my head for the next several years as I wear the glasses of shame. Or, maybe I really do know what looks good on me. Either way, it's done. I am, however, just a little teensy bit proud of myself for not succombing to russian woman's scare tactics, and standing my ground. I find this sense of power a bit refreshing. Maybe I will just hold my head higher today.
I am housewife. Hear me roar!