Parenting

A Mother Alone In Target

by Katie Bingham-Smith
Updated: 
Originally Published: 

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You have scraped your quota of boogers off the wall this week. You have wiped your fair share of butts. Oh, and that pee on the bathroom wall is not going to clean itself. You deserve a day at the spa, but you are easy. A few hours in Target will suffice. A few hours alone. Don’t fuck with a mom in Target when she is by herself (unless you can walk, talk, look and eat a pretzel the size of your head right along with her). She has shit to do. She is trying to get the stuff on her list and squeeze in some self-indulgence too. She is that good. The multitasking never stops—not even when she’s at Target:

Enter Target: Head right on over to get yourself a caffeinated bevy. You may piss your pants when you reach the home section and start caressing all the luxurious throws, but hey, you deserve it. You got the kids to school on time and got to take a shower. Fuck yeah. You don’t have to worry about someone spilling it, sipping it or poking their sister in the eye with the straw. Get the biggest size they have. You never do this.

Clothes Section: Just breeze through. You are alone. You never get to do this. Just look, you don’t need a…oh, look, those skinnies are cute! They look like they run big. You’ll just grab a pair and try them on. The light or the dark? Wow, there is red. You need red jeans. Yes, try them all on. What if they all look good? Just get them. You deserve it. You never do this.

Dressing Room: What the fuck?! Who is the dickweed in charge of the lighting in here? What the fuck is that? What is happening? These jeans run so small. You think they could make the zipper bigger than an inch? Whose vagina fits in here? Get me out. Get me out now.

Cosmetic Section: Grab the anti-wrinkle cream. Grab the anti-cellulite lotion. Grab all the jams and jellies you can find. Grab hair color. Wait, grab two. Get extra tweezers to keep in your purse. Get red nail polish. If you can’t have the red skinnies, at least you can have red nails. This is all a bit expensive. You deserve it though; you never do this. Besides, you didn’t buy any of those jeans that will only fit your daughter’s Barbie.

Shoe Section: Okay, child No. 3 needs shoe laces. Where the hell are they? These flats are cute. You can always use a new pair of black flats. Wow, pointy toes are in. You should get them. You never do this. They are so versatile. Love the booties. Ahhh, shoes. Shoes are safe. You can always count on the same size fitting you, and you don’t sweat when you’re taking them off. Get them both. You deserve it. Put the booties back. Get some control.

Underwear Section: Spanx. Just Spanx.

Food Section: Getting kind of hungry. Damn, the popcorn smells good. Probably shouldn’t get the Pop Tarts after that dressing room episode. You are due for your period in a few weeks. You did just suck back that drink. Probably just water weight and a full bladder. Maybe you should piss and try the jeans on again. These granola bars look good. They are organic. Let’s see here, organic oats, organic cane sugar, organic agave, organic honey, organic brown rice syrup. Hmmm, sounds legit. You will just have one of these babies.

Toy Section: Fuck NO.

Home Section: This is the last place you’ll peruse before getting the three things on your list. It’s getting late. Nice frames. You need new frames. That pillow. Oh, Nate Berkus, you rock my world! If you get the pillow, you need a new throw. The one you have will not do. THE POUF!!! No, don’t look. Oh shit, you are gonna pee. Do the step and cross. Look casual. Be casual. You love the pouf. You will get it. You never do this. You deserve it. Holy shit! You have to get the kids in 10 minutes. If you run, you can get the stuff on your list, take a wiz and be right on time.

Checking Out: Listen sister, you better move your ass along. Sorry that the bowl you want rang up at $5.98 but was supposed to be $4.62. Who fucking cares? Let it slide. It is still a steal. You have two minutes to check out, take the biggest piss of your life, refill your caffeinated bevy and stuff this pouf in your car. Yes, of course, of course you have the fucking red card. You are aware the box of granola bars is empty. Hurry the fuck up.

Picking Up Child: You made it. You did it. You were only speeding a little. You are on time. Plus, you got in a workout shoving the pouf in your car. You feel awesome. Mother of the year over here. Nothing can ruin this Target high. “Hey Mom, did you get me that paper for my science project? What’s up with the giant pillow?” SHIT.

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