“Ari, we’re out of wipes. We need to go to Target to get wipes for Samara.” I said this morning as Ari was playing with his cars.

“NO! I don’t want to go to Target. I need a jacket!” He whined
“It’s really hot outside, you don’t need a jacket.” I said with a sigh.
“I want to watch the new Max & Ruby instead.” He countered.
“Okay, I’ll get you a car if you go to Target.” I said thinking about the dollar bins at Target which are stocked with Matchbox cars.
“I want Toy Story instead.” He said.
“I can offer you a car.” I say, standing my ground.
“Okay.” He said with a sigh.
***
At Target

As I make my way to the elevators, I pass the women’s summer clothes. I do a mental inventory of the clothing I have at home, and realize that I have exactly one summer outfit. I begin impulsively grabbing pairs of shorts and a few shirts that appear to be my size. I feel like I’m on Supermarket Sweep except with clothes as opposed to food. The whole time I am grabbing clothes, Samara is alternating crying with nursing while in the Ergo.
“Cookies mommy! Look! I want cookies!’ He says pointing to the chocolate chip cookies at cash register strategically placed for impulse purchasing.
“No cookies!” I say beginning to sweat profusely.
“My car! I want a car!”
Shit! I completely forgot about the car! I accost the next red-shirted employee walking by named “Leonard.”
“Excuse me, are there cars down here? You know, at the cash register. There used to be cars down here. I don’t see any.” I am trying to construct a coherent sentence while sweating, listening to Ari ask repeatedly for a car, and hearing Samara crying loudly.
“Hold on. Let me check for you ma’am.” He says with a surprisingly genuine smile. He disappears and arrives back, looking triumphant, holding a small plastic car.
“Thank you!!” I almost yell, wanting to hug him. ” You are so awesome. Is there a manager I can tell how awesome you are?”
“Sure! Right over there.” He says pointing to a man in a collared red shirt. I commend Leonard to the collar-shirted man.
Samara hasn’t stopped crying, so I remove her from the Ergo and hold her on my hip.
“Uh, miss!!” Shouts a stranger “She’s throwing up on you!!”
I look down to find spit up all over my tank top.
I’m about to get in line when I remember the whole reason I came to Target! The baby wipes!
I race to the elevator with the kids, get upstairs, grab the wipes. Then get back in the elevator, go downstairs and get back in line.
“I want Goldfish!” Ari proclaims when we get in line. He is pointing to an enormous Costco-sized container of Goldfish.
“Ari, that’s way too big to carry home.”
The manager I told about Leonard is walking by.
“Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but do you have a smaller thing of Goldfish?”
“Yeah, I think so…” He says. He disappears and materializes with two individual-sized portions of Goldfish. I thank him excessively, Ari busts open one of the containers and digs in.
We manage to make it out of Target alive with 50,000 bags, and I am $80 poorer.
When I get home I realize only two out of the seven clothing items I bought actually fit.
Next time, I’m shopping online. Anyone else there with me?