Curse You Target!

I may've already told this story. If so, bear with me.

Years ago, when SuperTargets first emerged here, I resisted. Mainly because the first time I visited one I checked out behind a handsome, 20-something man who bought a package of underwear (the tighty whitey kind), an answering machine and a big package of hamburger meat. To me, there was something grossly wrong about buying your underwear where you buy your beef.

But SuperTarget prevailed. It bewitched me with its charming selection of housewares, clothes and holiday decor. Soon I was hooked.

Today I couldn't help but think of that first visit to SuperTarget because I went in for a birthday present for one of Sam's friends and came out with:

- 2 shirts for Abby (each on sale for $4)
- a sports bra for me (of course for me. Who else would it be for?)
- a pair of workout shorts (you see where this is going?)
- a workout t-shirt (yep, exercise)
- a Star Wars Clone Wars video ("the gift")
- an apple (goes along with the exercise initiative)
- a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (can't have them at home)
- a Diet Orange Crush (that or Pepsi. I hate Pepsi.)
- a single roman shade to replace the one Abby and Jake broke
- a 3-cup measuring cup (we're helping furnish an apartment at Family Gateway)
- a casserole dish (not for me)
- a knife set (definitely not for me)
- a dog bone (mesquite flavored, on sale)
- cat food (when they decide to return home)

It's not quite beef and briefs but I think I came close. If I would've just added a lawn chair and a douche, I think I would've made it.