Saturday in Target

I am not thinking straight.  Clearly, I am not.

I needed to make a run to Target (about 15 miles from home) to buy some storage tubs.  I am trying to whip this art room into some sort of manageable shape and navigable floor space.  I didn't realize that everyone and her dog, (yes), were out Christmas shopping today.  I'm still coming down from my Thanksgiving high.  I haven't done much in the Christmas season thoughts yet.

In Target, there were kids squabbling, mothers ranting, and what's this with the husbands??  My husband does not go to Target with me.  He doesn't shop anywhere, with me or without me.  There were so many husbands in Target today, with their ranting wives and their squabbling kids.  Interesting.

Speaking about interesting, there was an older couple who walked past me.  They were old and looked really old.  Rough.  Long-time smokers, perhaps.  She, in particular, was wrinkly and drawn.  But she was dressed in some kick-ass skinny jeans, and when she walked away, her backside could have been mistaken for a model, with her above-the-knee leather boots filled by her legs which seemed to go on forever.  Interesting.

Turning down another aisle (the bath aisle, if you were curious), I heard a voice that sounded just as deep and gravelly as Louis Armstrong's.  I kid you not.  I looked around the place in search of some magnificent fellow who was no doubt capable of belting out a tune to stop all shoppers in their tracks.  I peeked down another aisle, and there was the source of this gravelly bass voice: a woman, a youngish grandmother with her two grandkids!  What??!  It just did not seem right.  She was nice looking, as were her grandkids.  Her voice was put in the wrong body!!

Then there was the pleasant old lady, her husband, and their dog.  I have a thing about keeping dogs at home in their yards.  Not in cages or kennels (oh, wait!  That's another blog post for another time.)  I have a problem with all the dogs in all the human public places.  Too many dogs in outdoor restaurant settings, and by this I mean too many dog owners allowing their little, mini dogs onto a restaurant/coffee table.  BLECH.  I don't want to eat from a plate right where your dog has been sitting and slobbering.  I am digressing.  This pleasant old lady, her husband, and their dog simply melted my heart.  The (human) couple was so happy.  No doubt that little pooch has a lot to do with that.  And so, my minor anti-canine diatribe can abate with that sweet vision.

And then I headed towards the book aisle.  This meant I had to pass the multiple toy aisles.  Squabbling kids, ranting moms, husbands who were way out of their element.  Here's a funny I witnessed:  A largish (really largish) woman was yelling (no exaggeration here) to her son, "BUBBA!  BUBBA!!"  A little kid, the size of a mosquito, came round the corner and answered politely, "Yes, Mother?"

And finally, the damper of the Christmas spirit: A big ol' father, dragging around a cart full of coats, followed by four young children and a sweet-yet-haggard-looking woman.  He barked at his wife.  "Take 'em back!"  And she walked away, carrying a few Christmas items, with very little emotion on her face.  Her older daughter followed her, carrying the younger daughter.  All three were a vision in their long denim skirts.

And that was my orientation into the new season of...Advent.

I hope I get more out of it than shopping...