Something startling and unexpected happened yesterday. I spent five dollars and twenty-two cents at Target. $5.22. That's it. I went in to Target on my lunch hour because we're almost out of baby wipes (I of course buy the soft, scented Target brand). And I bought them. And they cost $5.22 including tax.
I've never done that before. I seem to make numerous Target runs per week, and each time I drive into the parking lot that big red bulls-eye makes my heart beat a little faster. Then I get in the door and smell the delicious Target smell--a combination of fresh popcorn and merchandise made in China--and I fall into that wonderful Target-induced fugue state in which I just meant to buy a birthday card and maybe some wrapping paper, and I end up spending $89.54.
Because....look! Or even, behold!! There are things like this. And this. And this! And there's also this, which I have my eye on for when we redo the guestroom. There is also the $1 spot, where I've probably spent more money than in any other department. Make no mistake--Target's dollar section is earning them big bucks. At least once a year, it is filled with Asian-themed merchandise, which I am compelled to buy by the bagful. And don't even get me started on their house brand of food products, Archer Farm. If anyone is wondering, the vanilla scones are out of this world. My dad, who makes scones from scratch, wanted my recipe when he tasted them.
Before Elaine was even two, whenever we would even drive by our local one, she would look out the window and say, "Tawget." It made this mother's heart so proud. When I eventually finalize (read: pay for) my will that's sitting out there at Legal Zoom, I plan on adding a codicil that states: if I die while grocery shopping, my family and friends must first move my body to the nearest Target because I do not want the ignominy of dying at Super Wal-Mart.
I don't know what went wrong yesterday. The whole store was bursting with spring merchandise. And all I could come up with was a package of baby wipes. It's never happened before, so I hope I haven't truly lost my lovin' feelings or anything like that. It had to just have been an off day.
After work I picked Elaine up from daycare. She was sitting in a circle with the other kids and her teacher, Ms. Sylvia, in the back of the room. She never saw me come in, so I sat down and watched her for awhile. She had a Baby Bop book of colors and shapes and was reading it to the rest of the class.
It is a long drive home for us, but she usually doesn't start complaining about it until around 3/4 of the way there. She had a Frog and Toad book (that's her new thing) and was reading that in her carseat most of the way.
She is also a backseat driver. This must be inherent in some people, because none of the rest of us are this way. She would read her book, then look up and comment, "Be careful, Mom," and then, "Both hands." (I hate driving with both hands.) I would surreptitiously slip one hand off after a little while and hear again, "Both hands, Mom." I haven't gotten this much feedback on my driving since Coach Fenton in Drivers' Ed. when I was in 10th grade.
We also love to listen to music of course, but Elaine will say, "It's too loud, Mom." Now, if she didn't look so much like us, I would think there was some mix-up at the hospital because what child of mine would EVER think the music was too loud? Possibly she has some inner ear disorder. I should look into that.
I checked to see if the moon was full last night--maybe that could explain the bizarre Target experience and my daughter who prefers soft music. But it wasn't. So I dunno. Any ideas?