My imaginary daughter Amy, 6, has a new hobby, which she clearly gets from me; she’s now obsessed with discount shopping, I have only myself to blame. Her mother, Carolyn, sent me the above picture last night just to aggravate me — showing her indulging Amy in the two things I forbid her to have; junk food and television.
“Why don’t we go to Barnes and Noble, Ricky? I got a 10% off coupon in my email this morning,” she tweeted to me this morning. “What are you reading, anyway?” At the time she asked, I was reading the latest court order I’d obtained against her mother.
It’s a wonder Amy has any sense of money with Carolyn being a profligate spender with the belief that her debt to income ratio is superfluous information, akin to what might be suitable for Amy on The Learning Channel. I have no idea what her boyfriend Fahd makes selling Amway, but he’s not exactly enjoying his Hi-C and Captain Morgan Rum cocktails on a yacht. Yes, Amy does provide me with the most curious info.
“We could go to Target, they have toilet paper on sale, the kind you like,” she tweeted again about 5 minutes after her first message. “Do you need eyedrops? I have a coooooopon!”
Meanwhile, Carolyn posted on her facebook about her new Balenciaga shoes. Apparently, cankles in gladiator sandals are all the rage. I had a chance to read her facebook when Amy left it on my screen — Carolyn deleted me as a friend shortly after our last encounter in Family Court over her proximity to Amy while smoking. Amy took this picture of her on that day, and as you can see by Carolyn’s expression, she was unamused, but thinner. 
I then received a text. “Cost Plus has the coffee you like, the French Toast on sale.”
Yes, she meant French Roast, but we call it French Toast as a broken family joke since she made that mistake when she was four. Later, Amy sent me an instant message on the merits of two-for-one shopping. “If it’s 50% off, that means you get one free if you buy one,” said my budding mathematician. “You can’t beat that,” she chirped, mimicing one of Carolyn’s Bostonianisms.
So I picked up Amy from her friend Shennae’s house and we stopped by the mall for a little shopping (it’s actually how I get her to exercise). She spotted a pair of Hello Kitty sneakers in the window of Sanrio and declared, “I must have them, I don’t care what they cost!”
I can’t imagine where she gets that. Yes, I know those sneakers are large. She’s big for six.
in my imaginary daughter amy 
