Target Addiction

It seems that the – I can’t even bring myself to say it – “J word” will be necessary to fund my Target addiction. You see, ever since they opened a Target right down the road, I’m always popping out for a jug of milk or whatnot and it is impossible to get out of that place for less than $100. Just not possible. First of all, you have to walk past the dollar items, most of which cost more than $1 these days, and that alone can set you back $10. Then you have to follow the cart track, which swings you through purses, jewelry, pajamas and shoes. Here is where I get stuck. They have great shoe sales. Just last week I bought a sparkly silver pair of flats for $3.74. (They are made of plastic or something because I tried to wear them and my feet starting sweating like a couple of whores in church.) Anyway, who can walk away from shoes at that price? Certainly not me.

Next comes womens’ clothing and it is imperative to stop and cull through the 50% off and 75% racks. I’m usually tossing $4.98 tops in my cart as fast as my arms can move. I don’t know if I secretly fear a scarcity of shirts that would necessitate me going out topless or what, but I just keep buying more. Then I cross the cart path to children’s clothing and continue loading the cart with stuff my daughter doesn’t need. Sometimes the bargains are so good that I have to buy sizes that she won’t wear until she’s in junior high. After that, the cart path leads us through toys and then I typically get way-laid again in the seasonal department. Not during the current season, mind you, I would never pay full price for anything. But when the sale starts, I am mere putty in Target’s giant hands.

The last post-season sale was for Christmas and they went to 90% off. 90%!!! You can certainly see why I had 2 cartloads of crap after that (much of it resembling stuff I’d thrown out after our last yard sale). The 90% sale actually required that I visit 2 different Targets, just to make sure I hadn’t left any bargains lying around for someone else to take. I now have enough ornaments for 3 trees of varying color schemes; alas, I only have one fake tree. So what I saved in ornaments, I will now have to spend to get new trees upon which to hang them. (And I hate to even think about how many new doors we’re gonna need for all those wreaths.)

In my blur of bargain activity, I also bought every green insulated coffee mug they had. This actually required crawling on my hands and knees searching every shelf to make sure I had them all. I was pretty proud of myself, having already taken care of teacher gifts, etc. for next year. It was only after I got them home that M pointed out (and did I tell you he ruins everything for me??) that they weren’t actually insulated coffee mugs, but were martini shakers! Huh. Glad I didn’t show up at G’s preschool drinking out of one of those babies at 8am. So I actually had to return those.

Now, where were we on the cart path? Oh right, after the seasonal sale comes milk and groceries and a bunch of boring stuff. I try to spend as little time in that side of the store as possible. (M would say that’s pretty obvious, since last night marked the 3rd in a row that he had a peanut butter & jelly sandwich for dinner.) Next, the cart path takes us through the cashier line – where they know me, of course – and then on to Marshall’s next door. And, NO, it is not possible to just go to one store or the other. (Why do people always ask such a dumb question?) God wouldn’t have put them in the same shopping center if you weren’t supposed to go to both.

I typically go home and excitedly show my husband my bargains, only for him to say something along the lines of, “Oh, I didn’t know you needed shoes.” (Just in case you needed Exhibit #133 of how he lives to make me miserable.)

Okay, back to the J-O-B. Apparently, if I were to live within my means, this drastic step wouldn’t be necessary. I tried to explain to M that, on account of the fact that I don’t technically have any means, it would be impossible to live within them. But you know how unreasonable he can be.

If you are thinking this comes down to being spoiled and selfish, I am totally on your side! I mean, I had to take out a 5th mortgage today to buy M’s Mach III razor cartridges. I don’t know if those things are made of gold or what, but I think he could sacrifice a little for the family. I don’t see why I should work to support his shaving habit. And secondly, we spend an equivalent of 4 pairs of shoes a month on little G’s milk addiction. If she would make the switch to tap water, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

All I’m asking for is a little teamwork. No one said it would be easy, and sacrifices will have to be made. But I am doing this for you, dear reader (you know how selfless I am). No need to thank me.