It needs to come home with me

It had been sometime since I had visited the red bulls-eye mecca. I love/hate that place. Go in with a goal of three things. Leave with a cart full of impulse buys. Damn you Target.

The dollar racks caught me right as I walked in the door. She ran over to the racks with determination. She didn't know it, but the racks were calling to her....just like they call to me. Of course I found $10 worth of crap that the mommy kids HAD to have. My rationalization....it's only a dollar. What's the harm. Plus, I don't have to "round down" the price when he asks how much it costs.

I snapped myself out of the dollar high and headed back to the shoes department - the entire purpose of walking into this place.

Stay focused.

Stupid me, I took the long way around which put me right by the home decor...crap. Thankfully the boys (one buckled in the seat and the other loose in the basket - hold your judgments - what was I supposed to do? those stupid two seated crazy limo cards are a recipe for disaster) decided to play "who can grab at the fragile stuff the fastest." I hightailed it out of home decor and made it to the shoes unscathed.

I refrained from gagging at the sequin covered mary-janes and the action figure sneakers. Really? Where are all the regular shoes? As I was cursing the red bulls-eye for not having what I came here for, she came over with a rolling backpack. Not just any rolling backpack - this was a princess rolling back pack. Pink with princesses and a complete piece of junk.
"What do you have?"
"A pack-pack."
"Yeah? What are you going to do with that?"
She looked up at me "It NEEDS to come home with me."
And with complete elation I wanted to crouch down and say "I know! Stuff talks to you right? The stuff you absolutely love. It talks to you! It happens to me too."

But like a good mom role model, I told her that we could not get it today. Maybe another day. Then I went on to tell her, and show her, that it was not made very well and would fall apart. That 26 bucks for that piece of junk was a joke. We would get her a good rolling back pack (sans princesses - thank god) from Pottery Barn. They were way cuter and better quality. She wanted nothing to do with my speech and had already begun to pack her pack-pack with shoes from the rack. Clearly she had her heart set on the backpack....I had to hold back from saying "I know sister. Parting with an item is hard."

I am still not sure how it worked, but I managed to convince her that the back pack was not meant to be. We put it away and said good bye. She patted the backpack and said "I see you soon. You come home with me soon."

It occurred to me as we were driving home and she was chatting about her beloved "pack-pack", that while a bird & the bees conversation is required, clearly a discussion on parting with super awesome Target bounty would come first.

the ninth

I am not exactly a people person...well, maybe it's not people, it strangers. Okay, you got me, it is people that I don't know. I am just not a small talker. So why, why did the universe make me drop two eggs which found two sperm and...well, we all know the rest of the story. Anyhow, for such a anti-small talker person, why do I have twins? Twins = small talk. Twins also = fascination. Why do people care so much about twins when they are all the rage these days? Hell, it seems in Hollywood that everyone is doing it. Twins are the new botox. I am not famous, but take twins (plus a 2 year old) into a store and a lot of people are looking. And I know its not because of my cute shoes.

My technique is to smile and keep walking. The smile has to be a love to stop, but you know... kinda smile. It is the disappointed smile that will hopefully chalk up some pity points.  The same kind you give to your annoying neighbor. You don't want to be thought of as a complete B, but you also can't stomach another round of questions. Plus, I just don't have the time to talk. The weekend is only so long and then Bam!...Monday is upon us. Hours in a grocery store is not my idea of a great weekend.

If you slow down, you are doomed. So you have to keep going at a good clip or you have given the "a-okay" for them to come over (block the entire isle) and ask the stock questions. Twins? How old? Both boys (duh)? Oh, and how old is their sister?
But you have to be careful with older ladies. If you smile to big, mark my words they will get a closer look. True story, an older lady followed me through Costco until she was able to catch up and get a glimpse. She wanted to touch their cheeks but the snot running down their noses deterred her at the last minute.

As any mom knows, when entering a store you have a window of time before the kid will self-destruct. The self-destruction can be in many forms. Some come like waves. Others like tsunamis - wiping out everything in their path including you and your patience. Most stores won't let you pop open a bottle of booze with out paying, so you have to make it through till the end. No escape.Well my theory is that the more kids, the narrower the window. It is a get-in get-out thing. No time to chit chat. Even if you don't know where you are going, you have to pretend you do. 

My husband is the kinda guy who could carry on a conversation with anyone. He smiles and acknowledges each person walking by. It really is a great quality. I am kinda jealous. Okay, maybe not. Anyhow, I love it when he comes shopping with me, except that he ignores the cardinal rules. I'll be half way down the isle, look back and he is not there. I back track and there he is smiling and talking to the someone. When he is through I ask him, "who was that?"
"I don't know. They wanted to know about them."

I can see our oldest begin to rearrange things in the cart...It looks like she is calculating which box of snacks to rip into first. The self-destruct count down has begun and we just started. Better stock up on the Chardonnay.