The Target Addiction

Can anybody out there tell me the secret for getting out of Target without spending way too much money? I mean besides taking my husband with me. Because he can completely suck the joy out of any shopping experience what with all of his annoying do you really need that?-ness.

No, of course I don't really NEED THAT. Yes I know I already have one. In fact I already have a purple one and a green one, also one with stripes and one with polka dots but none that are even remotely as cute or as useful as THIS ONE. Yes, I NEED IT. Okay I mean maybe I don't NEED it but I WANT it. And I'm getting it. Why are you here again? Shouldn't you be in the electronics section or something?

I swear it happens every single time. I go in there with a specific plan. Today I needed a new backpack and tennis shoes for Amanda, cat food and toilet paper. And then I end up standing there at the cash register thinking CRAP! How did my cart get so full?

The dollar section always gets me. It was in the dollar section that for some idiotic reason I told Amanda she could have this rubber ball that squeaks the most insanely annoying squuuuuuuh-weeeeeeeak when you squeeze it. I think I told her she could have it just so she would put it down and stop that awful noise. I'm pretty sure I made her promise that she would only play with it while locked inside a soundproof room while I was in another country with headphones on listening to very loud music.

Then as soon as the dreadful squeaking had died down, this adorable little boy ran over and grabbed a matching ball and squeezed it… squuuuuuuuuuh-weeeeeeeeeeeak… and Amanda couldn't resist yanking her ball out of the cart to respond with another squuuuuuuuuuuuuh-weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak which resulted in the two of them dissolving in giggles and started the most irritating non-verbal conversation you can possibly imagine. He would squeak, his mom's right eye would twitch, she would squeak, my left eye would twitch. And this went on until they were both dragged away in opposite directions. As we were walking away I actually said, "The only reason I haven't thrown that thing away is because we haven't paid for it yet."

So along with all the stuff I'd actually gone there in the first place for and that awful little $1 ball, I had to get a myriad of other random stuff… including Easter stuff, what with February being over YESTERDAY I had to jump on that, of course… and then there was this jacket that Alyssa needed because the poor child lives in hand-me-downs and apparently there was no cold weather when Amanda was this size.

So there I stood at the counter shaking my head, once again, thinking what have I done? I stopped going to the mall years ago because of this problem. But I can't exactly stop going to Target, can I? No. I can't. It's like air or food. Don't tell me to stop going to Target. That's crazy-talk.