Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Oprah goes to Target....

     Of course my husband doesn't beat me. And I don't beat my kids. I spanked Gage once, in mid chase, as he was attempting to cross a busy street. No, wait. He just reminded me of the time he rode his bike directly in front of a moving vehicle, right in front of me and his bio-dad when he was 7. His butt got smacked then too. You get the picture. Anyway, even though nobody hits anyone else, this is a threat we use sarcastically, in jest. Oh yeah, and domestic violence is totally not funny!
     That said......Husband is going to beat me. I spent sooooooooooooooooooooo much money at Walmart between yesterday and today. Okay not that much. More like $soo.oo much. You dig? I had good reason though! Prescriptions, groceries, toiletries, super huge box O' diapers, bandanas to make gifts for the adorable baby girls of my cousins and friends, a beach umbrella, a super cute cover-up and patriotic swimsuit for was IMPORTANT. I feel guilty anyway though. It's a lot of cash all at once, it's a corporate giant (which the punk in me feels is inherently evil) and by going there I feel like I'm part of Walmart culture. What is Walmart culture? You know what it is. Shut the fuck up. There isn't a whole website called People of Walmart for no reason.

     Oh how I wish I could be a Target person...Michelle Obama goes to Target. Oprah goes to Target. Martha Stewart does not go to Target because she isn't good enough. She goes to Kmart. That tells you how fancy Target is.

      At Target, there's a Starbucks just inside the front door. After you pick your sturdy red cart, you enter the dollar bins, where you can find every decorative thing you need for (insert holiday here), all your daughter's hair accessories for the next year, bubble bath samples, cookie confetti, baby books for your nephew and beer koozies with mustaches on them. Next you get to the accessories section, fashionable adolescent and cheap but super cute sunglasses. And scarves. So many scarves!
     Then there's that wierd section where, you're browsing through the grown-ass-woman clothes (hint; there is not a giant peace sign and butterfly print on the T-shirts), you're holding things up to you to see if they fit (because nobody wants to abandon their cart to try shit on), and you start finding all these awesome pieces that seem to be made for you! And then OHMYFUCKINGSHIT they're maternity! No sweat, bitches, Ima just make the face that clearly means "I am shopping for my poor, pregnant friend and being kind by pretending she is even close to my size". Crisis averted. Moving on. Perhaps some sweat pants from the mens section is just what "she" needs.....Oh wait - what are these adorable sun and moon print jammies in the active/sleepwear section?? $25 for pajamas??? Fuck off, I'll wear my Husband's old boxers and a sports bra. That's totally legit.

     The people who shop at Target for their shit tickets (ie: toilet paper) are people who can afford to pay an extra $3 for something you flush down the toilet. Three dollars is a lot of fucking money, for most people. And that's how Walmart gets you. Their prices are so makes it mostly okay to look at people like this while you pick out side dishes for this week's menu:
This is not okay.

     I haven't had too many noteworthy experiences in Walmart, surprisingly. But I did have one, that was particularly memorable. Gage was a little dude, maybe...6 months old. We were in the checkout line at Walmart and in front of us was a woman with a full cart and 3 kids, all under 5 years old. One of the boys was being an asshole, throwing bags of candy off the shelves, hitting his sister... whatever. His mom told him 80 times to stop. Come here. Behave. On and on....and then, she did something amazing. That kid was about 15 feet away from her. She took off her dirty flip flop, and flung it at her son with the force of a hurricane. And then she flew over to him in an instant, picked up the flip flop and smacked him upside the head with it! He did not even cry! He just looked at her and made the pouty face.
     I was horrified, at the time. That was child abuse! I should have reported her, I thought. But now...I'd probably give her MY shoe to smack him with. I don't know what it is, but something about having more than one child makes you lose your fucking mind, and hitting children with dirty foam flip flops seems like a great idea.

    I have a friend and a cousin who are about to have babies, and I think they even have the same due date. One has two older kids, so she's gonna have lots of help. The other will have an 18 month old and a newborn at the same time. She happens to be one of those people who was born to raise children so I don't worry about her, but if it were me? I'd probably develop a tequila problem. That is way, way worse than my beer problem, just so you know. I have a huge amount of respect for people with multiple kids. You women are nuts though. Have you ever had a psychological evaluation? Cuz I'm pretty sure you've got thrill seeker issues. Maybe a zip line in the backyard would be better for your mental health? Whatever floats your boat I guess...



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