Tales of the Neophyte Mom: Sparkling Nostrils

Yesterday was girl's day out. High tea at The Montage. After valet parking, we (La La, Kimmy, Carolyn, Stasya, and I) took advantage of an extra 45 minutes by scuffing our heels 6 windy blocks to Neiman Marcus. Aahhh Neiman Marcus! Life is better with sparkles and textures. The mind energized eyeing variegated bags. Thump. Thump.  Zac Posen. Vintage. Sweet and flirty. Maybe too much orange. But reigned by classic silhouettes. Wearable, feminine, sensible. Tea was uber-lovely. Uneventful in a good way. Tasty, vein hopping. The real event was me and Stasya trying to find a changing table in the upscale, mostly adult friendly hotel. A true neophyte stumbling. I went to the logical: the ladies room. As I pivoted looking for counter space, a bottle flew out of my petunia pickle bottom backpack. BAM! Sliding across the tile floor. Stopping at the feet of a kind, older native Chinese woman. She picked it up with a feeble smile. She had no choice. And stretched out her hand. Not a word. Then went back to her pleasant hand washing. I, murmured a thank you and did another about face heading for the exit. A strap on my backpack slipped down so I jerked my soldier back up while forcing the free hand (still holding the bottle) to shove the heavy door open . Stasya squirming. As I jerked my shoulder up, my arm flew back and the bottle got stuck. I turned around. I had shoved it up the Chinese woman's nose! Her nostril! What?! Welcome to America!