RED-Cameleon-Denim.JPG?quality=0.6&height=185&width=185&)
I Want My Bugaboo!
Submitted by
DevaD
I am not a materialistic person. I normally couldn't care less about labels. I happily wear T-shirts from Target and flip-flops from the drug store. But when it came time to buy my stroller, I became the ultimate material girl.
"I'm not spending $800 on a stroller," my husband said when I brought up the Bugaboo for the 50th time.
"$800 is for the Frog. I want the Cameleon."
Now he looked at me like I was an amphibian.
I was furious. How could he do this to me? Why couldn't he understand that we had to have a Bugaboo? I flat out refused to be the only mother on the Upper East Side of Manhattan without one! What would people think? I'd be ashamed to walk down Madison Avenue … not to mention Fifth Avenue! I threatened my husband that if he bought us a Graco, I'd never leave the apartment.
I know I sound like a princess, but I'm really not. (I'm not!) Sometimes, in a calm moment—usually when I get a solicitation from Save the Children or some charity reminding me of the poverty and misfortune in the world—I find I'm actually appalled by my desire to plop down a grand on a glorified pushcart that will just get barfed on and pooped on by my baby.
How did I become so insecure that I need a certain stroller to feel I can make it with the Manhattan mom set? Is this the beginning of a slippery slope of competitive mom hell that will continue with preschools, pancake recipes and Vera Wang prom dresses? Or will I eventually rise above it and proudly parade my baby in a $30 stroller and send her to her senior prom in something from Target? Maybe some day. But for now I just want my Bugaboo and no amount of self-reflection is going to change that.
Submit!
