A Shopping Trip...

We had a shopping trip adventure this morning. I have to plan these in the midst of several other kid-friendly outings. Monday, we were home all day. Tuesdays are park day with our friends from church. We stayed at the park from 10:30-1:30. So I thought we could eek out a trip to Target. Nothing else. Just Target and then back home. No such luck.

My friend and I usually plan our trips to Target together. Moral support, I think. I love Target. I love to wander around looking at every department. Snagging deals. Plus, you can get a drink and popcorn for a buck. You can't go wrong. Well. I find bliss in Target, but my girls are otherwise. It seems as if the large red bullseye sends off waves to their brains that say, "Disobey and throw tantrums. It makes life way more fun." My friend's kids are the same way. It seems Target sends them into this realm where they can be the other part of their split personalities. Their arms will flail at intermittent moments. Screams, whether of joy or disgust, erupt at any given opportunity. And yet I keep going. I do try to make it an every other week event.
My favorite Target memory happened when I was nearly due to have Amelia. Calla and I ventured to Target alone. I was at the customer service desk when it happened. She bolted. Down the main aisle in a child-like jog. Ok. I can keep an eye on her while I waddle as fast as I can to catch up. Then it happened. She took a sharp right turn into the clothing racks. Now all was hopeless. As I began searching the racks near her entry point, I realized she was long gone.
"Code Adam. Female. Two years old. Blonde pigtails. Blue denim shorts. Pink shirt. Code Adam. All employees." As I stood there with tears and dread on my face, Target employees emerged from the woodwork. All were on the search for a little girl whose mother obviously can't control her. Yep. Especially when the darker forces within Target take over. They found her within seconds. Gleefully playing in the center of the toy aisle halfway across the store. Needless to say, we left. And now she is confined to a cart most of time. Until she's 21.