A day at the sales.

We are off to the sales
My daughter and I.
Dreaming of bargains
our hopes are so high.
The huge doors open
and through them we zoom.
It's like being sucked into a vacuum.
There are too many people
and not enough room.
I spy a rack of dazzling dresses
and make a beeline for them.
All in iridescent colours
I just simply adore them.
But on examination
they are wrinkled and dishevelled.
My once high aspirations
are quickly and cruelly levelled.
This dress is for a tall woman
a woman with a long torso.
Again my hopes are really dashed
I'm crushed then, even more so.
"I'm short," I wail
as I turn to my child.
She leans on the rail
her voice soft and mild.
"You're not short, you're petite.
Let's go look at the shoes.
You have lovely small feet.
You'll love Jimmy Choo's."