I remember the conversation like it was yesterday, which is weird because sometimes I can’t even remember my middle name. Earlier this summer my friend told me her daughter will only wear this one sundress so she has to do the laundry every night. Being the amazing friend that I am I nodded and smiled, while inside my head I was thinking, “You F'ing idiot. Who’s in charge, you or your toddler? Just tell her to pick something different.”
Well, I guess karma can read minds because it came back and bit me in the ass.
Later that summer I was on Tarjay’s website (Apparently going to the store four times a week isn’t enough) when I saw this cute blue dress with blue dots on clearance for $7.
Seven dollars?! Hells yeah, add to cart! I’d buy the bubonic plague if they were selling it for $7. Oh shit, I've turned into my grandmother.
And then I did something I should never ever do. When the delivery arrived I opened it up in front of my daughter. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. I should have known better. It’s like when you walk down the candy aisle with your kid and kick yourself later as you watch her throw herself to the ground and turn purple as she screams and snots everywhere because you won’t let her buy the king-sized box of jujyfruits.
I’m slicing open the package from Target as my daughter watches, and I’m thinking to myself, you shouldn’t be doing this. What if you don’t like it? But the scissors are already cutting the tape so I’ll keep going. How bad can it be? The moment I pulled the dress out, we both respond at exactly the same time.
I’m thinking, wow, that dress looks like it fell off the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. And 3T my ass. 3T for a hippopotamus maybe.
While she’s thinking, Mommy can you sew it to my skin so I never have to take it off?
Well, it’s all about picking your battles. So there are places I let her wear it:
And places I don’t:
Although I’m reconsidering that rule. Maybe then it would get clean in the soapy water and I wouldn't have to be THAT mom washing THAT dress at 10 PM because I’m scared shitless about what I’m going to have to deal with if it’s not dry by morning.
The good news is I’ve calculated how much it costs us each time she wears it. Since it was only $7 and she’s worn it 9,874,423 times, that comes to $.0000007 a time. Talk about value. Man, I love Target. Except for the bathrooms. Where I’ve spent way too much time.
If you like this, check out the other shit, uhhh, I mean amazingly brilliant other stuff I write. And make sure to check out my book that's coming out this October.