It's crazy how some situations often make you reexamine your life. They make you think about everything you have done till that point, mistakes you might have made and things you could have done differently.

That's how I actually felt in that precise moment. Like the world was punishing me somehow for the million something mistakes I had made, because why else would I be in such a predicament.

Why would I be helping my fourty four year old mother shop for a wedding dress for the fourth time in my mere twenty three years on the planet??

" What do you think about this one Mimi?? "

She asked again as she stepped out of the dressing room in yet another pristine white gown, all sheer lace with pearl embellishments this time. I smiled, like I had the last sixteen times, and acted all cheery.

" That's definitely the one!!" I chirped in, glancing at the time on my phone to ensure I wasn't running late for work.

She twirled in front of the mirror, then placed one hand on her waist and sighed in defeat... again.

" I don't know, I feel like the train could be longer, " I sagged on the nice couch I was on and groaned. I had to hand it to her though, looking at her one wouldn't think her a day over thirty. She took great pride in keeping herself fit. Of course Botox also had a role to play in the matter but who really cares. I just wanted this to be over so that I could be back at Zigs, the tattoo parlor where I worked, giving drunk teenagers permanent marks they would come to regret in the future.

Now that stuff was interesting, watching my mom go through half the racks in this bridal shop on the other hand was simply depressing.

" The train can easily be rectified, " the salesgirl said. And I could tell that she had also had enough of this.

My mom tilted her head from side to side, seeming deep in thought. And in that singular instance I almost envied her. The only hard choice she had to make in life was decide on the length of her train. She was well-off, as would be expected of someone that had gone through three divorces and acquired quite a lot of settlement money. She had always offered to help me out, doing everything she could to ensure I led a nice life, but I liked my independence.

" You know what I've realized, a longer train would be nice, but not on this gown. It lacks character. Don't you agree Mimi?"

I didn't. The same way I didn't agree with her calling me by my childhood nickname. But sometimes you just had to reign it all in.

But I couldn't endure the torture for much longer, so I was extremely grateful when an idea came to mind.

" Um, do you by any chance make custom gowns?" I asked the salesgirl who cautiously nodded. Weary of what she would be getting herself into when she said yes.

" That's great! Mom, why don't you just describe the kind of gown you want and have them make it for you!"

She flipped her blonde hair that was so much like mine and clapped her hands excitedly.

" That is a brilliant idea! "

" Isn't it?"

I then stood, straightening my short leather skirt as I did so. Then I dashed over to her and gave her a hug.

" Okay, I'll let you get to that. Bye mom. "

She gave me this disappointed look, the same one she used to give me each time she was called to my highschool by the principal. Which used to happen quite frequently.

" Wait, you're leaving? You can't leave, you promised me that we'd spend time together today. "

" We have, I've been sitting on that couch for three hours."

" Come on Mimi, Steven is expecting us for lunch later on. I already made the reservations. "

Steven was her lucky husband number four, and I had only met him twice. He seemed like a nice guy, definitely more loaded than any of the other men she married. Actually, the guy might have as well been a celebrity. From what I hear he's some big shot business guy with firms all over the freaking country. But then again, I couldn't care less.

" You can just say hi for me or something, now I really have to go. Ziggler hates it when were late. "

She rolled her eyes in pure dislike, combing her slender fingers through her hair afterwards, and I knew exactly what she was planning on saying.

" Mom don't start. We've had this conversation already and my choice remains the same. I'm not quiting my job."

She walked over to a small table near the window and picked up the glass of champagne that we had been offered on entering the very expensive store.

The she drank it all in one gulp and turned on her heels to face me.

" I just don't get why you insist on working in that place, " she shivered as if I worked in a haunted dungeon, placed her empty glass back down and crossed her arms.

" You're such a smart girl, I'm sure that if we asked Steven--"

" Don't you dare. I'm happy with my job, and if I continue having this conversation I might actually get fired....so bye. "

I grabbed my purse from the couch on my way out, pausing to blow her a kiss and tell her that I loved her. Because I truly did. She was a bit much sometimes but I had put her through a lot. Especially during my rebellious teenage years, yet she had never given up on me.

" Love you too. And don't forget about the engagement party next Saturday!" she shouted the reminder seconds before I exited the store.

" I won't. " I assured her, then I began bracing myself for the event which if given a choice, I would have missed in a heartbeat.