I decided to Target yesterday with Baby B in tow - this is a laborious effort that involves much planning after consulting his master schedule to ensure that I'm not interrupting any naps or feedings. Once I get out of the house (feeling more like a pack mule than a mom, as I tote the child, his lovies, the diaper bag, and my purse), we arrive at Target and I then must balance all of said equipment, plus my shopping cart cover. I swore I would never get one of those, but the first time Baby B started teething on the handle I was all Ew! Germs! Gross! Get me a shopping cart cover NOW. Well, let's be honest, I owned TWO at one point (shower gifts that were not on my registry) and I took them both back in exchange for giftcards. Oops.
Alas, we're in the store and Baby B is happily strapped in the cart, babbling on about how there's popcorn and soft pretzels located right by the entrance and he can hardly resist the smell and I should totally go get one, or five, and a Diet Coke. Well, those were my thoughts when we walked in anyway.
So we saunter through the women's department and I am instantly in love with this top. And it's on sale for $12.99, so how could I resist? I am now wandering through racks of clothes picturing me and B on a date - me wearing this stunning top, paired with black capris, sipping vino in the summer air.
Baby B and I make it back to the dressing room where I must sift through the heap of clothes that have somehow appeared in my cart so that we obey their 6-item rule. We're assigned the wheelchair-accessible changing room (all moms know this is key when you need to fit your cart or stroller into the room with you), and I swiftly maneuver the cart so Baby B can make silly faces in the mirror while I try on clothes hopefully uninterrupted.
I wriggle the top on, loving the feel of the material, give my hair a little toss, and whip around to check myself out.
And then there they are. My boobs. Making the ruffly part hang off of my chest awkwardly.
My first thought is: My boobs have a moustache. Made out of ruffles.
My second is: darn boobs.
And then I am a deflated balloon, the air whizzing quickly out of my summer outfit vision.
And to make matters worse. I became one of those moms. One of those moms who steals a mini carton of Goldfish crackers from the end cap in the children's clothing department and secretly feeds her son them in order to preoccupy him so she can enjoy the rest of her shopping trip sans whining. Yup, I totally did that. Unapologetically too. And, yes, I did pay for them, but not until they were almost gone and Baby B could no longer conceal the evidence since there was orange mushy stuff all over his face. Whatever. I'll do what it takes. And you know Target strategically puts them in that location so that moms like me will spend 99 cents for a little peace and quiet.
I did score some end-of-the-season clearance items, so it wasn't a total bust. Or was it - a total bust? Ha ha. Get it?????? I am so clever ;)