Monday, August 29, 2016

Mom Goes to Target: What She Does is Unbelievable!





Today I went to Target and bought only one item.  

The odds of doing this, calculated by my rough estimation, are about 1 in 3,000.

I am more likely to be hit by a meteorite.

NASA data aside, it’s worth putting my point in context: I had both kids with me.

The ace in my pocket was the note from the choir director with a photo of the shoes we needed for my eight-year-old.

Apparently, my eight-year-old can now be called a chorister.  As a chorister, my child needed “unembellished black ballet flats”. 

The shoes pictured in the director’s note were made by Cherokee and cost $14.99 at Target.  This seemed like a good deal, considering my daughter would wear them a few times this year while standing behind other people wearing the exact same shoes.

My daughter’s pervious pair of ballet flats had been a bit of a bust and there was nothing unembellished about them. To be fair, the gold glitter didn’t fall off all the time, just when my daughter walked or actually had her feet in the shoes.  This pair of troublesome flats were not made by Cherokee but by another brand I’d never heard of at the time, something called Ivanka Trump kids.

Back to Target.

We arrived at 10am sharp and headed directly to the shoe section.

No cart. 

No basket.

Nothing but the description of the shoes in my hand and the foot, attached to the chorister, at my side.

We found the shoes. We found the size. They fit.

At that point, I was near the socks. I felt the pull of shopping trips past. We did need some crackers. Maybe more Windex? Where else could I find the 5-calorie doggie treats in such a variety of flavors? Did we really have enough glue sticks to get through October? 

But I had declared a “one item” trip and we were dedicated to our mission. We headed to the checkout with the same unflappable focus with which we’d entered just minutes before.

“Self check-out,” my eleven-year-old barked.

We couldn’t risk the temptations we’d find while waiting in line for a cashier. The packs of gum would do us in. 

One item.

One bag.

A quick moment with the credit card chip facing the correct way for once in my life and we were out of there.

Outside, I felt the sun on my face. I didn’t have a large grocery cart to haul to the car. I had my little chorister and the unembellished shoes she’d need to blend into the choir.

It was one for the record books.



This post is part of my: Tips the Parenting Magazines Won’t Tell You, an occasional satirical series. Click here for past posts.  As always, thanks for reading and drop me a line. I'm posting more on my new blog and website:  www.writeonsarah.com  and sometimes on Twitter. @writeonsarah

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