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MANDY FLYNN: Internet shopping lays a goose egg

FEATURE COLUMN: The internet is convenient for shopping, but short on creating memories

Mandy Flynn

Mandy Flynn

“I’ve picked out some dresses I like,” she said and brought the laptop over and sat down beside me. We clicked through the ones she had found, blues and hot pinks. Some with vivid patterns and some simple. Beautiful and modern. Grown up, but not too much. We settled on a blue one. Just right for a girl of 16.

“Perfect dress for Easter,” I said as we clicked through the checkout and placed our order, hoping it would arrive on time.

So different from how it used to be, not even so very long ago, really. When she was just a little thing. The internet’s taken the memory out of a lot of holidays.

Sweet cotton candy colored dresses with sateen hems and smocked bodices. Snow white socks with laced hemmed edges and white buffed English sandals. Matching bows (the bigger the better) clipped into soft curled hair. So darn cute you could eat her up with a spoon. She wore those dresses for about 10 years. Ahhhh. Loved it.

I think I got away with dressing our son “cute” for Easter for only two years. The first, he wore a little white Jon Jon, knee socks and white shoes. Precious.

“Boys don’t wear knee socks,” his father said.

“Yes, they do,” I said.

The second Easter, he wore a little white outfit with orange Tic Tac that he found in his car seat drool down the front. White knee socks and white shoes.

“Boys don’t wear knee socks,” his father said.

“Be quiet,” I said.

The third Easter, he wore khaki shorts and fireman boots.

I had given up.

I remember Easter a long time ago, when the special Sunday meant a new dress and, if I was lucky, a little straw purse, too. There’s this Polaroid picture somewhere that I know was taken at Easter because I have on a little navy blue dress with white polka dots. My sister is standing beside me and she has on a white hat and gloves.

And I’d bet we both had on new shoes.

We didn’t get new shoes that often, but we always got a new pair at Easter. On Saturday, we’d go to the shoe store in Americus, where shoes of all sorts lined the walls and it smelled like rich leather. In the window was the sign I still can picture as clear as day. The big red goose.

Red Goose Shoes. I’ve written about Red Goose Shoes before. It’s too good a memory not to have it again. Half the fun of having feet is Red Goose Shoes. I loved that goose.

When you picked out your new Easter shoes you’d get a token to put in the big red goose contraption by the counter and she’d lay an egg – a big, golden egg with a prize inside. Little, bitty prizes. Fun things.

I vaguely remember a tin clicker with a goose on it that clicked when you squeezed it, and I aggravated my brother so much with it that he took it and hid it from me. I think he was just jealous of my tin clicker with the goose on it because he was too old for Red Goose Shoes.

I don’t think they make Red Goose Shoes anymore. No more golden eggs with their tiny little prizes. I loved those golden eggs, but I love the memory even more. One of my favorite Easter memories.

That, and my red tin clicker. That’s a memory you can’t get from the internet.

Email columnist Mandy Flynn at flyn1862@bellsouth.net.