Tuesday, February 19, 2013
We spend waaaay too much time at Target. I'd like to believe that this comes as a bigger shock to everyone than I know it really does. I mean, let's be honest--#suburbia #babymama #needtogetoutandabout #whereshouldigo #nosurprise #seeyouattarget.
I remember just after college (when I was working in marketing), one of my coworker's wives had just had a baby. They lived close to our office, which was also coincidentally close to a Target. We'd amicably joke about how everyday on our lunch break someone in the office would inevitably make a Target run, and how inevitably they'd run into our coworker's wife. I'd chuckle along with the rest, then silently be thankful it wasn't me. I mean, I had big things to accomplish in my workday! Who could be happy caring for a baby and wandering around a big box store all day, right? Here I am, nearly seven years later, filled with the realization that the work I was doing then was NOT my purpose in life, toting around a baby of my own (and feeling surprisingly fulfilled), and I can honestly say I finally get it. I. Get. It.
Target is the suburban mom's solution to everything. Need groceries? Check. Want a cute outfit for your datenight? Check. Refilling a prescription? Check. Thinking of updating your living room with a couple new throw pillows? Check. Bored out of your mind? Check. Feeling cutoff from civilization and need real, non-baby human interaction? Check.
And, best of all, whoever the genius is behind Target's purchasing and branding is really, really good at their job. Really good. I'd like to meet that (wo)man and shake her hand...and then give her a $20 bill because, let's be honest, my paycheck might as well be direct-deposited into Target's account anyway. I swear, they must pump something in through the ventilation system that induces euphoria, because no one can get out of there without purchasing something extraneous. How many times have I gone in for shampoo and ended up with a receipt a mile long and cart full of plastic bags? The answer? Every time, that's how many.
Now that I have a sidekick with me all the time, E.V.'s become accustomed to Target quite swimmingly. Ryan and I joke that she thinks of it as her second home, and when he asks where we're headed as we're walking out the door, I just respond, "E.V.'s store." He knows what's up--AND he knows not to ask the question, "So what'd you buy?" anymore. Truthfully, he doesn't want to know the answer, and I don't want to tell him! :)