Apron strings

I disparaged Pooh Bear's homemade apron in yesterday's post. Buck believed Goodwill might produce a child-sized well-sewn apron, so she and I looked around inside Goodwill while Buck dropped off some of our clutter for other people to buy to decorate or clutter their house. I must admit my lack of faith that Goodwill would have a selection of aprons for Pooh Bear to choose, because I've looked before and have never found a single apron for her or myself. I really would like one to wear while cooking, but I will refuse unless it's:
1. pretty
2. two dollars or less
I want nothing to do with a bright orange apron with HOME DEPOT written across my breasts or an inane saying like, "Chefs Make Better Lovers." Oh, brother. The colors musn't clash with my kitchen or offend my sense of beauty. Nor do I want something so expensive, it would rattle me to get tomato sauce smeared upon it.

The Goodwill muse did not choose bless me with glam cooking garb yesterday, but she did fly near to Pooh Bear. I couldn't miss a gigantic, floppy-eared, country bunny, the exact size of Pooh Bear. I noticed the animal sported a lacey calico dress overlayed with nothing less than white fru fru apron. I promptly tested to see if the apron could be removed from the stuffed bunny, and viola! It was easily untied and parted from the bunny's ensemble. I called Pooh Bear over for her to try it on. A perfect fit. Her expression was a mix of disbelief and euphoria, "Do you think we could buy this, Mommy?" We tied the apron back on the bunny and both of us skipped with glee to the front of the store hand in hand. Okay, Pooh Bear skipped, and I walked fast. I approached the register,"I want to buy the bunny, take it's apron off, and give the bunny back to Goodwill if that's okay with you." The sales lady scrunched up her face and inquired, "I'll let you just by the apron, but why?" I asked the clerk if she liked the Wizard of Oz as much as Pooh Bear, and waved my hand down to Pooh Bear's outfit. "Oh, I see the ruby slippers. You're doing the Dorothy thing. That'll be two dollars."

Pooh Bear got quite a few compliments at Wal-mart and the carpet store. One lady went out of her way to ask Pooh Bear, "Where can one find a Dorothy outfit like yours? I wish I had one." When Pooh Bear smiled like the Cheshire Cat and shrugged her shoulders at the lady, I answered, "Hand-me-downs, Goodwill, a fuzzy dog from a stuffed animal collection, and an old Easter basket should work for you too."