I was a jealous kid, a real nasty piece of work. I once stole a fellow year three’s Tiny Teddies out of his lunchbox and ate them in front of him – savage to say the least. Aside from my parent’s ineptitude at providing me a decent bloody recess, they did, for the most part, manage to punish the evil, lunchbox-raiding ways out of me. My green eyed monster has since lived a reclusive life, wasting away without the sustenance of strawberry Dip n Dunk Tiny Teddies, that us, until recently.
Let me set the scene. I was meandering through a bustling H&M store stateside, sniffing out the cheapest deal I could get my grubby hands on, when I saw it – glistening in all of its sale rack goodness.
A shining light in a sea of synthetic materials and sweaty shoppers, green, silky and sexy. I had to have it. In hindsight I blame the holiday weight, but I was simply too slow. Another savvy shopper with equally as wonderful taste as I, managed to swoop in and grab my prize.
Out comes my green eyed monster, Tiny Teddy’s or not. I grappled with the idea of punching her in the crotch, grabbing the dress and making a run for it, but I fought the temptation of my old habits and did the right thing. I stalked her throughout the store, waited for her to try it on and eventually put it back on the rack – testament to hard work truly paying off.
It was at that moment, i noticed in my peripherals, the tucked-away rack that housed 17 dresses of the same variety. Call me a moron, call me a drongo, call me whatever you please, but you sure as hell can’t call me a green eyed monster.