We go to Target® sometimes.
I have a friend who goes there all the time. Her son thought up a dragon toy that had wheels for feet and breathed ice cream instead of fire. He said you could ride it like a bike. He also said he wanted one for his birthday. When his mom explained that it didn't really exist he suggested she look for one at Target®. (They probably do have this. If not, their merchandising team has make a mistake because this thing sounds wicked cool.)
Anyway, this is what happens when I go there…
First of all, my local store has these monstrous kid carts. My kids LOVE these carts because they both fit. These things are huge. It is a regular cart with an additional two-seater thing bolted on. I think it makes the cart like 34 feet long. I feel so ridiculous trying to maneuver around the aisles that I wind up laughing almost the entire time we are there. (Well played, Target®.)
But as we walk through the doors, something happens:
Because moments later:
I have no idea what just happened.
And I'm pretty sure I forgot to buy the one thing I went in there for.
No, Target® didn't pay me to write this. So now they owe me. Make that ice cream breathing dragon thing happen and we'll call it even. Actually don't, that sounds super messy and I don't want it in my house.
Also, supporting mom & pop businesses and buying local and buying used is really super awesome and highly superior to shopping at big box stores. We know. But that hypnotic red eye beckons and I cannot break the spell.
Plus, buying toothbrushes used is super gross. Which is what I was going in there for. And I haven't found a local toothbrush crafter and if I did I probably couldn't afford it. And the natural hair ones at Whole Foods smell like ass. Something about scrubbing my teeth with animal hair squicks me out.
Forget it. I'll just stop brushing my teeth. It will save water. Sigh. Eco-guilt.