Friday, May 7, 2010

Crash Course in Embarrassment

Gah! I refuse....REFUSE, to do any more shopping for this baby. The only thing I have left to get is the highchair, which we don't need yet, and the swing, which J's mom is buying. I keep saying I'm finished, then figure out some other things that I need.

We went to Target. I waddled into the store and got on my scooter. We went to the baby section. Which leads to my little rant. Why? Why is every other section of the store designed with huge, roomy aisles, yet the baby sections are always packed as tightly as can be? The stores do this, knowing damned good and well that mothers come in with strollers and carts full of children and carseats and more. My fave is the cart that has the little bench-like seats attached to the end closest to the handle. Have you ever tried to steer one of those things? It's like driving a boxcar.

We really just went to get the overhead gym thingy. Then I discovered that they carry Medela products compatible with my breast pump ( Pump In Style Advanced), which saved us a trip to Babies 'R' Us, or the shop I lovingly call the Boob Store (can't think of the name, but a little boutique that specializes in breastfeeding). I need storage/ freezing supplies because I plan to turn myself into a milk maid over the next 6 weeks so J won't be tempted to sneak Zachary formula while I'm at work one night. So I find my freezer bag doo-dads and they are in the cart. Then I saw a sign over a rack of little shorts outfits that says "Newborn size: $3". Oooooooh! I couldn't resist, even though The Kid Needs No More Clothes! That is when it happened.

I wrecked into an entire rack of clothing. As in I literally knocked it down. Picture a sea of brightly colored miniature outfits on the floor, with me right there, my face the same exact color as the hot pink bermudas I am wearing. So I turn around to get J's help, but J's nowhere to be seen. But I know he is there somewhere, because I can hear him snickering. But where? So I start timidly calling out: "John?" All I get is more laughter. "JOHN??" Even louder laughter. "JOHN!!!!!!!". Finally he shows up to help me, but he is ducking like someone he knows is going to see him. And he actually says, "Here, Ma'am, let me help you." Like I am some random stranger he doesn't know instead of his wife of 10 years. Bastard.

So we literally flee the baby section. I want to flee the store, but I am not finished shopping, and I do not want to do this again.

Let's just sum this up--I literally left a wake of destruction through the entire store. I knocked off a box of dishes (thankfully not breakable) from some random shelf. I took out a row of shoes trying to turn a corner to look for a cheap pair of sandals for E to get dirty in this summer. I clobbered a rack of camisoles trying to find nursing-friendly layers for the summer. But my absolute favorite? The poor girls behind the glass display in electronics where I was trying to buy a new camera. They literally had a look of terror in their eyes as I approached. It was horrible. I have become an power scooter expert over the past 4 months, and I can honestly say Target has the worst ones.

But I got all of the crap I need. If I wanted to spend any more money, I would be hard-pressed to find a justification. And trust me, I am the Queen when it comes to rationalizing shopping. But I can honestly say that if Zachary doesn't have it now, there is no way he needs it.

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