“Mommy, is there Target in heaven?” David asked me one morning.
“Um,” I answered. “Well, David. The Bible doesn’t specifically say. But. I don’t think it would be heaven without Target.”
We have conversations like that a lot. My kids love Target. Because when we go, they never know what we’ll leave with. And isn’t that everyone’s favorite thing about Target? We might very well go in there looking for school supplies and leave with a Halloween costume for our cat. And if Mommy’s feeling generous, maybe even a new car for David’s Lightning McQueen line-up. And always, always a snack.
A few weeks ago, Tom and I were having lunch at his parents’ house, and we were chatting about restaurants we like.
There was a pause in the conversation and Mary Virginia piped up, as she likes to. Her back straight and eyebrows raised, contributing to the adult discussion with confidence as if we had all been waiting to hear her opinion.
“My favorite place to eat is…is…is Target.”
We were once reading a book and when I read the word “pizzazz” David asked me what it meant. I answered that it means something that is extra special or exciting.
“So, Target is pizzazz?”
I don’t know where they got their obsession with Target. I love Target, but there’s no way they like it because of the adorable seasonal decorations. After Thomas was born, Target was the first place I went with all three kids. He was probably two weeks old, so getting out of the house for a two mile trip to Target took a combination of math, magic, and good fortune. After coordinating Thomas’s nursing needs, and getting everyone’s shoes on (whatever, we don’t need shoes, WE CAN BUY SOME THERE!), I herded all three out to the car, snapped three different carseats, and by the time we got parked, Thomas already needed a new diaper.
After I parked, I sat there for a while to figure out the best strategy for getting the kids from the car to the store. I changed Thomas’s diaper on the passenger seat of the van, put him back in his carseat, put David in the cart, buckled Mary Virginia in the front of the cart, then wrapped Thomas up in the Moby and headed into the store.
This photo is from the first trip with all three kids, when David offered to buckle Mary Virginia’s buckle to help me, since I was holding Thomas. And when I saw her buckled like this, I laughed harder than a recently-postpartum woman can safely laugh.
While we were there, several people gave me kudos for being out with three kids. I shrugged. We were at Target. Target is no big deal. It’s not like we were at the grocery store.
We were all excited to be out of the house and headed into the bright glow of Target, where there were aisles and aisles of things in chevron and ikat, somehow marketed to all of us. And coffee. Iced coffee with sugar-free vanilla and a splash of half & half, in a handy cup-holder clipped to the side of my cart, and a refill on the way out for just $0.53.