by Cathy
Whoever came up with that lively little ditty didn't have to shop at Target with their kids during the holidays, did they.
Going to Target on a regular, non-holiday day with the kids is crazy enough, but throw in the hustle and bustle of the holiday shoppers, the sales, the glitter, tinsel and sparkle and toy endcap displays, and it becomes the ultimate money-and-time-suck.
Without fail, upon entering Target, my kids all of a sudden, are starving. Since I try to avoid taking them to Target because of the reasons explained in this post, when I do, I indulge them in one of their favorite foods - Pizza Hut pizza. So we go straight to the counter, order their pizzas and they eat while I usually catch up on emails and mentally go through my shopping list. When they're done, I wait for the next Target side-track.
"Mommy, I have to go kaka," says Ari.
"Me too" chimes in Bella.
And there it is.
So we all head off to the bathroom. There I stand, listening to Ari recite school poems or sing Christmas carols or tell me the drama that occurred during recess that day at school while she is doing her business and I lean against the door to keep it from opening whenever someone else opens or closes their stall door. And God forbid someone uses those turbo XLERATOR jets to dry their hands; then we are literally screaming to be heard until they stop abruptly and we're still found screaming with our hands covering our ears.
[Allow me to vent: Those things are the loudest and most annoying thing EVER and whoever invented them should be subjected to sit in a bathroom for hours having to listen to those thing run non-stop. It's like a helicopter is landing in the middle of the bathroom to help you dry your hands. Really? (Here's a little tip, people: If you don't place your hands close to the nozzle, they won't be as loud. In fact, try to go as low as you can go without it shutting off and the noise level reduces by a few decibels.)]
Once my hand has dipped into the low toilets with the high water levels at least once during Ari's wiping session and the toilet has flushed on its own at least three times in the process (again, way to be green, people) then we wash our hands, avoid the XLERATOR like the plague and let our hands air dry as we finally head out to get a cart.
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| Actual cart; child actors |
Enter the cart drama. Ari wants the cart with the separate double-seater section in front, which is not only as long as a bus but also feels like I'm maneuvering one as I do complete 180 degree turns every time I want to go anywhere. I feel like I'm plowing the aisles of Target with that contraption.
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| What actual cart feels like; again, actor |
If I'm lucky, some other poor parents are stuck with them all and I can get a normal, nimble cart. Once my girls have each argued about who will walk, who will sit in the cart, which part of the cart they want to sit or stand in, who's going to hang off the front or the side, we start strolling. By this point, I can't remember for the life of me what it was I came here to buy.
At about the same time, we are walking past the dollar bins, where I inevitably get side-Targeted once again by being forced to "Look!" and "Ooh!" and "Isn't this cute!" and "Can we get this?" over silly little doodads and other non-useful items that are presented to me with big brown eyes and pouty, puppy dog faces.
I mind-muscle them away by distracting them with questions about what we have to buy. But in the end, it doesn't matter what we have to buy - it's what we end up buying. And battling over. And negotiating over.
But I will be honest: the good thing about shopping during the holidays with the kids, is that anything they ask for can be answered with, "Oh, that's cute! Put that on your list for Santa!" And let's not forget the go-to lifesaver of the season: "Remember...Santa's watching you!!"
Until the post-season trips to Target, where upon I'll have to come up with new side-Targeted avoidance tactics.
