You know, I went to Target Friday afternoon because Target always makes me feel good. I don't know if it's the jollyness of the big red sign or the abundance of 75 percent off endcaps, but I can have a good day there. It's chock full of fun for moms and kids alike, so I rarely have a problem there.
It started well. I found a duvet cover (like I am classy because it's a duvet instead of a cheap bedspread) I have been wanting for six months, marked down from 79.99 to 19.98! I did a little dance in the aisle and practically ripped the last queen from a little old lady from Minnesota who was not sure what a duvet was (as if). Then off to the lipsticks where, hallelujah, the ones on clearance matched my awesome coupons, so they were FREE! I think Target may have even paid me to take some. Oh, it was good times. Then Jacob decided to climb into the cart, which he never, ever does, but I saw no harm in it aside from pushing the now seventy pound cart. This made Adam want to climb into the back as well and I thought, well, what would that hurt? FYI: Two boys in back of cart equals complete meltdown disaster. It began innocently enough. Two brothers giggling in unison and hugging each other while senior citizens stop to comment on how sweet they are and I pat my back in my mind over what a great parent I must be to have raised such wonderful offspring. Then I felt the need to buy maternity shorts and diapers staying just a tad too long and in no time at all the little guy was stripping his clothes off, jeans here, shoes there, big brother wrestling him down to try to stop the fiasco. It was WWF cart style. I stopped to reclothe the boy, but to no avail. He's very quick at the strip down, so I know he has something to fall back on in his future. He can also evade the cart straps as well, so to that well meaning bitty who told me to strap him back into the seat....pshaw, ain't happening. The screaming, the nakedness, the tsk-tsks from all around. Target was no longer my happy place. It all fell apart when a pregnant chicky in the dollar spot suggested to her heavily made up friend that maybe she should call CPS because *gasp* that baby was out in just a diaper. At that point, I was ready to hand them over. CPS would have returned them within the hour. You just wait girlfriend.....you just wait.
As we were checking out and I was trying to dress Adam for what must have been the eighth time, Jacob starts shaking his head at the cashier. "I am just so, so embarrassed" he tells her with his head in his hands. Oh honey, I have been embarrassed for the past six years, starting with the incessant screaming everywhere we went, to blow out diapers in restaurant high chairs, and the tantrums at play dates. This was just a blip on the radar screen, boy. Join the club, dude.
Yeah, they look all sweet and cute, but they are trouble I tell ya!
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