(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2012 01:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ricevermicelliTarget is screwing with me.
Understand, Target is like Vegas. You go in with whatever intentions you have, and emerge hours later, unsure how it is possible that so much time has passed, poorer than you were, and possibly not quite certain what you got for your money.
I was looking for pants fordanceboy and Hotspur, and shirts for Danger Lad!
Pants fordanceboy was like a trip through the looking glass, into the special land where the size on the hanger and the size on the tag never ever match.
Finding pants for Hotspur is easy, because Target operates on the belief that the maximum possible retail footage should be dedicated to little girls, since no one else has parents who make impulse purchases. It also helps that ridiculous anti-feminist slogans like "born to shop!" are far more likely to be on shirts. So she's sorted.
It transpired that this is no longer the season in which one can buy little boys long-sleeved shirts. It is now the season to purchase bathing suits. Which is a problem, because we didn't plan the tropical vacation that Target things we should have, I have no idea what size the boy will be when it is bathing suit season, and ever since I told him that there really are real sharks in this world (and notwithstanding my assurances that they don't live around here), he doesn't want to go to the beach ever again. Short version: we don't need no stinkin' bathing suits. We need long-sleeved shirts, dangit. Ideally, long-sleeved shirts without licensed characters that scare him, and which don't say embarrassing things like "Mama's Boy". (He can't read, but I'd be embarrassed.) I found one.
Hotspur had a nosebleed last night, and Danger Lad! had an accident, so I came home to a bathtub full of horrifying laundry. It's the kind of day that makes me want to eat my emergency chocolate cookies and wait for the emergency to pass. If I wasn't so sure that wouldn't work, I'd be on that right now.
Understand, Target is like Vegas. You go in with whatever intentions you have, and emerge hours later, unsure how it is possible that so much time has passed, poorer than you were, and possibly not quite certain what you got for your money.
I was looking for pants for
danceboy and Hotspur, and shirts for Danger Lad! Pants for
danceboy was like a trip through the looking glass, into the special land where the size on the hanger and the size on the tag never ever match.Finding pants for Hotspur is easy, because Target operates on the belief that the maximum possible retail footage should be dedicated to little girls, since no one else has parents who make impulse purchases. It also helps that ridiculous anti-feminist slogans like "born to shop!" are far more likely to be on shirts. So she's sorted.
It transpired that this is no longer the season in which one can buy little boys long-sleeved shirts. It is now the season to purchase bathing suits. Which is a problem, because we didn't plan the tropical vacation that Target things we should have, I have no idea what size the boy will be when it is bathing suit season, and ever since I told him that there really are real sharks in this world (and notwithstanding my assurances that they don't live around here), he doesn't want to go to the beach ever again. Short version: we don't need no stinkin' bathing suits. We need long-sleeved shirts, dangit. Ideally, long-sleeved shirts without licensed characters that scare him, and which don't say embarrassing things like "Mama's Boy". (He can't read, but I'd be embarrassed.) I found one.
Hotspur had a nosebleed last night, and Danger Lad! had an accident, so I came home to a bathtub full of horrifying laundry. It's the kind of day that makes me want to eat my emergency chocolate cookies and wait for the emergency to pass. If I wasn't so sure that wouldn't work, I'd be on that right now.
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no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 06:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:13 pm (UTC)If I slip you a twenty, can you take them McD's?
no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:22 pm (UTC)Because sure!
(fine, I'll take them to McDonalds... and I won't even tell them what's in a chicken nugget)
(this time)
no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-31 08:20 pm (UTC)Also, the fashion gods wanted buying men's pants to be easy, which is why they have that non-insane sizing system! But maybe Target is the natural enemy of the fashion gods, which is why they have withdrawn their limitedly-useful-in-the-first-place favors.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-01 03:25 pm (UTC)(uh, yeah. Target, for me, seems to have acres of nothing-I-want. Except Zone bars. They're my crack supplier for every flavor imaginable there. But mostly it's a crapshoot for anything.)
no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 03:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 03:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 04:14 pm (UTC)Also, fortunately for me, the number of people who have any feelings whatsoever on the topic of the Sanhedrin is very small.
no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 05:38 pm (UTC)