Attention Shoppers!/Clienti di attenzione!

There are no words I can use to describe the wonder that is Fiumicino Airport--the most incredible, upscale shopping mall in the world for the well-heeled traveller on the go. Prada, Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana-- even Hermes --all the best stores within a five minute walk to our gate. Temptation during a time of crisis--I am powerless to resist and giddy from all the beautiful leather goods and shoes that surround me like a blissful safety net. Now I know what heaven must be like.

Of course, Richard chides me mercilessly for buying so much but I can't help it. These stores have things I never see in the States. How could I look and not touch… or buy. Emily Gilmore does not browse and neither do her girls.

Richard turns to me and in that curt manner of his begins to scold once more. "Emily, you've got to calm down. You've already spent $3,000 in half an hour and our connecting flight won't board for another half an hour. I shudder to think how much debt we'll get into before we even leave the airport."

I know he's right. But I just can't help myself. When Lorelai sighed over those beautiful Bulgari sunglasses--how could I say no? When Rory clutched that Ferragamo backpack--could I deny her? And when Charlie tried on those adorable Benetton sweaters--who could resist her? And, when I slipped on that adorable little sapphire and ruby…

"Emily? Emily!! Snap out of it--what do you think of this umbrella?" bellowed Richard from the Burberry shop.

"Oh, for heaven's sake Richard--did you come to Italy just to buy an umbrella? We've got dozens at home." I roll my eyes with disdain.

"It may rain where we are going and an umbrella is a practical item," he retorts. "You know how I like to be prepared."

"You know what would go well with that umbrella?" I say impishly.

"No, what?" he says intrigued.

"A gorgeous slate blue raincoat. You would look so handsome in that one over there!"

"Emily--an umbrella will do just fine."

"But Richard…"

"No, Emily. I've got three raincoats at home."

"But Richard one more for each season…"

"NO Emily, control yourself. Please leave me out if it your crazed attempts to distract yourself from the obvious."

"Excuse me?!" I hear myself say loudly. My blood is beginning to simmer.

Richard leans into me. "I understand Sweetheart. You're nervous about this Baltesera woman and your way of dealing with things is to… well, buy things."

"No, it is not." My blood is beginning to boil.

"Oh, yes it is Mom!" pipes in Lorelai, who suddenly appears out of nowhere with Rory and Charlie in tow.

"Mom, face facts-- you are an inveterate shopper. And the more nervous and crazed you become--well, the more stuff you get. Remember the time Trix came to visit for a weekend?" She continues. "You redecorated her guestroom with an entire Gumps home catalogue just because she said she hated the lamp on the night stand."

Rory apparently feels the need to chime in by adding "Grandma, shopping is your form of therapy although I think the real thing would help you more..." Just then Charlie elbows Rory. That's my girl! You show her!

"I don't remember twisting your arm over those sunglasses Lorelai or you, Rory over that backpack. If you don't like your purchases and you felt the need to humour me, well never you mind. We can just return everything." I motion to the store behind them.

"Mommy!" Lorelai shrieks, "I love these sunglasses. You said I could have them!"

"Grandma! Don't take your anger out on my backpack!" Rory shrieks just like her mother. I hope I don't shriek like that!

Charlie, poor dear, looks stunned as she takes in the vision of two possibly three shrieking Gilmores. Richard stands behind her with a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I don't want either of you to be a party to my "uncontrollable shopping addiction." And, I don't need therapy!" I say as I clutch my bags to my body tightly.

Just then Charlie tugs at me and in a low tone utters my name, ""Emily…"

I look down at her ready to snap but I contain my anger and reply curtly "Yes Charlie--what do you have to say for yourself?!"

"Thank you for my sweaters--they're the most beautiful sweaters ever. I don't know what a shopping addiction is but if you bought me these sweaters to make me feel good. It worked. I'm not so nervous about meeting my great aunt anymore." She entwines her hand in mine and gives me a smile that melts both my anger and anxiety. Suddenly, the urge to splurge dissipates.

"Well, sweetheart, I'm glad I could make you happy," I say as I squeeze her hand. I adore that little girl!

The loudspeaker begins to blare "Flight 394 now boarding, Gate 24...seating rows 1-10 per favore."

"That's us--Emily, girls get your bags together and let's go and enough of this shopping nonsense," commands Richard.

One after the other, I hear "Yes, Daddy", "Yes, Grandpa." "Yes, Richard." The girls file in a straight line before us heading toward the airplane door.

I remain silent and lost in thought. Just then Richard turns to me and clears his throat.

I look straight into his eyes and smile, "Yes Dear."

He takes my hand, squeezes it and we begin to board. As we approach our seats, Richard whispers in my ear. "Just for the record... I too, have my own addiction."

Surprised at his confession, I ask "what is it?!"

"You, of course." And with that he pinches my backside. Pretending to be offended I swat him with a shopping bag. He just laughs and leads me forward.

In just another hour, we land. And I'll come face-to-face with my nemesis. Hm…I wonder if they have a Prada store where we're going…