I heart Target

Ashley blogged yesterday about boring her imaginary friend Jesus with stories about her (mis)adventures with Emma, and I just can't stop laughing at this bit of dialogue: no! please! stay!! i haven't told you about what happened the other day at target yet!!

I realize this probably makes no sense whatsoever to you non parents, but I know just what she is talking about, and I'm not sure whether I'm laughing out of pity or empathy or just a sense of the ridiculousness of the whole burning daylight dilemma.

I remember a coworker telling me on a Monday a year ago that she took her numerous kids to the mall on both Saturday and Sunday, and I had some terribly critical, esoteric, and absurdly naive thoughts that had something to do with conspicuous consumption and "Those poor, poor children. I'm only going to take Harrison to parks and museums--not (gasp) stores!"

The thing is, you can only spend so many hours playing outside in 90 degree heat, and Target has air-conditioning. It's 10 minutes away, which means you can get home quickly if any tantrum or poop-related emergency occurs. Harrison can yell and scream and grab stuff, and no one gives us dirty looks. You don't have to pay to get into Target or park in the parking lot. And there are many pretty, pretty things for mama and baby to look at and play with and yearn for (anti-consumerism be damned!).

Maybe I'm delirious from the heat. Maybe my brain has become completely engulfed by the pulp that is The DaVinci Code (which I cannot bear to put down despite my English literature degree). I know that everyone has read it but me, but I will summarize by saying that one of the recurring themes is that The Truth about divinity is everywhere, in plain sight. We just never see it.

Well, I am here to testify that my preparenthood guilty pleasure of Target shopping has escalated into a postnatal epiphany that I have found God, and I don't care if Jesus finds Target adventures boring, because I know that Target is His Heavenly Throne.