I felt great walking into Target thinking about all the things I was going to look at while I was there. Just as I entered the store Elsbeth broke into a spastic tantrum and made it nearly impossible to put her into the cart. I would twist her one way and try to bend her legs and she would scream and twist the other way. People began to look in my direction and cast judgemental glares. I know those glares, I used to hand them out carelessly to anyone with a kid that they obviously couldn't "control". That was before I had a child, Ahem, a two year old of my own. I just smirked and shrugged and bent casually down to Ellie and whispered menacingly in her ear, "If you do not STOP IT RIGHT NOW I am gong to spank you."
Because, yes, I AM a spanker.....gasp! Cue the sirens! Call animal, I mean child welfare services! You know what? All I have to do is threaten one now and the mere threat does the trick. As soon as the words passed my lips she said, "Sowwie Mama" and reached out for a hug. I let out a sigh of relief at the briefness of that battle of the wills and adjusted her in the cart.
As I made me way through the accessories and cast lustful glances at all of the things I couldn't buy, I kept noticing people staring at me. I congratulated myself on my daring outfit because I was sure that's what had the people looking and I looked down to admire it myself. And that's when I died.
I believe that at some point during our altercation, Elsbeth had somehow managed to kick my dress, skirt, whatever it was and manage to knock it down. Unbelievably I had been wandering through Target with my entire bra on display for the world. How did I not feel that? It must have been the endorphin rush I got from all the pretty things I was admiring. And the best part of the whole story? Right where my nipple would have been had I not been wearing a bra ( NO, not my knee cap) sat a perfectly round spaghetti-O gasping in mock horror at my public embarrassment.
I laughed out loud because what else could I do? And then I fixed my skress, that is what we are now calling that abomination of an outfit, and looked at Ellie. I said, "Thank you for giving me a story to write about." She pointed at the spaghetti-O in the baby wipe I was holding and said, "New-Null". "Yes", I said, "we are all noodles." And then we moved on to the shoes. A place where both of us can be happy.