Addictions

Fine. I admit it.

Hello. My name is Brooke and I'm addicted to Target.

Hi, Brooke.

A couple of weeks ago, I made the huge mistake of opening the Target ad. I know better. It's like not letting me eat anything for three days, sitting me down in front of a bowl of my father-in-law's fettuccine alfredo and asking me to lick the bottom of my shoe instead. Totally not going to happen. I didn't NEED to go to Target today. I wanted to go to Target today.

I took S with me because 1) where I go, she goes 2) I was kinda hoping she'd lose patience with me five minutes in so I could stick to just the things on my list and 3) serious budget damage is done if I go there solo. Stuff I can't even use I'll buy. Why? Because it looks good and I spent four years wishing I had a Target nearby.

Here's what I went in to get: a baby gift for William, pajamas for T, possibly some storage bins and baskets, batteries, a price for bar stools, and a quick once over of the clearance section.

Here's what I bought: a baby gift (and card) for William, pajamas for T, some Christmas gifts for Abby and Lily, a shirt and sweatshirt for S, a lunchbox set (sports bottle and either sandwich keeper or snack container) for T and S, batteries, storage baskets, Rice Krispy treats, a piggy bank, and tissue paper for the baby gift. By the way, bar stools generally run 30 or 31 inches and run from about $50 to $130. Good to know.

The list of what I wanted to buy? Whooooooooo. It's long, people.

Once I left, I haven't given all the stuff that seemed like such a good idea in the store a second thought. So why is it that I find it so hard to resist a buying frenzy there? Marketing? Convenience? Product placement? Subliminal messaging?

I dunno. I'm just glad I stayed away from the shoes.