dear target

Dear Target,

Oh how I love you.  You are truly a marvel, because of the way you have ALL THE THINGS. Certain husbands who shall remain nameless, like to refer to you as a black hole. As in, our money disappears into the black hole of Target, could you please try to avoid it at all costs?!

No.  No, I cannot.  

 Clearly, you should not be like me, unless you want to GET ARRESTED for being a creeper. 

Clearly, you should not be like me, unless you want to GET ARRESTED for being a creeper. 

This is how my Target trips usually go down. I walk into the store at the dollar section, where I decide that I clearly need 37 mini mason jars, and straws shaped like Christmas trees. While we’re at it, there are some Christmas socks that I really won’t wear, but hey, they’re only a dollar.  

Next, I move on to the cards and wrapping, because there’s probably someone with a birthday in the next year who will need an Awkward Family Photos card. I stand there reading ALL the cards, laughing to myself like a weirdo, and am probably 5 seconds away from being asked to leave by security. Afterwards, I make my way to the Kitchen Goods section.  

JK, I go straight for the clothes. Duh. (I mean, who needs kitchen supplies when you can have a top that you will wear ONCE, along with a hat you don’t need? You DID see it on 7 fashion bloggers after all.)

 Leopard hat, FTW!

Leopard hat, FTW!

Let’s move on to the product section, shall we? OH THE PRODUCT SECTION. There’s some hair serum that promises my hair will be 18x more shiny if I use it.  Throw that junk in the cart!  I could also really use some new eye shadow and body wash, not to mention headbands.  (I’ll share them with AG, maybe, so it’s FINE.) 

Next we’re headed to the shoe section.  Because I really, truly need some designer knockoff booties. Even if they will make my feet feel like I strapped on razor blades and walked around for a day….they’re only $19.99.  Score!

Time to head upstairs to the children’s clothing section.  Where any shred of restraint I was holding on to disappears, and I start throwing kid clothes into the cart with WILD ABANDON.  

It’s at this point that I usually realize that I CANNOT BE TRUSTED and need to get out of Target as fast humanly possible. 

I remove approximately 17 things from my cart at checkout, feeling virtuous (and annoying) as I tell the cashier that I changed my mind. “This is the time I get out for less than $100”, I tell myself.  I can feel it.  

The cashier totals my cart and tells me I owe $273.29.  What in the actual heck?

Until next time, Target. 

(And by next time, I mean tomorrow.)