Two days ago, I accidentally bought a coat. Now, that sounds like a euphemism for “I saw a coat I really wanted and it wasn’t in my budget but I somehow found myself handing over my credit card,” but that’s not what happened at all. No, I accidentally bought a coat.
Here’s what happened. Jack, Nora and I were at Trader Joe’s. This was my first attempt at grocery shopping with both kids, and we did phenomenally well, thanks to the Ergo baby carrier, which I have not been paid to promote but which you should all rush out and buy because it is AWESOME. The Ergo is new to me because Nora is only recently old enough to ride in it without the infant insert, and I hated the infant insert and never used it. But now I happily put up with the fact that it is a bit bulky to tote around because I can NURSE in that thing! And there is NO PAIN EVER. I love it.
Ahem. So. Grocery shopping. As I said, it went phenomenally well, even though Jack didn’t ride in the carriage but walked alongside. Actually, now that I am writing this, I am thinking that had we gone to a traditional gigando grocery store instead of tiny little Trader Joe’s with the free soup samples, things would have gone less phenomenally well. Still, though, we got through the store with only one counting-to-five incident as I was paying, so I’ll take it. Things went so well, that I thought we could walk across the parking lot to the TJ Maxx in the same plaza, and we did.
Once in there, though, it realized my plans of lazily browsing the stock, maybe finding a few sweaters (because I am COLD), were clearly the delusions of a sleep-deprived mind, because I had a three-year-old walking beside me. There was not going to be any lazy browsing. And this is while he was being well-behaved, “helpfully” pulling sweaters off the hangers for me to see. (“I like this one, Mom! It’s yeh-yoh! My favorite color!”) Heaven help us if he decided to throw a tantrum.
So I decided to leave, but on my way back towards the door, I spied a fuzzy white faux-shearling coat. It was $35. I wanted to try it on quickly, but when I tried to unsnap it, the snap broke. So I carried it up to the cashier to show her the damage I did, hoping I wouldn’t have to buy it since I was the one who broke it.
“Oh, yes, I see,” she said. “Let me see… I can give it to you for $30.”
“Oh! But… I didn’t even get to try it on…” I stuttered, taken aback that she apparently thought I was trying to negotiate a deal.
“Oh, you can still return it!” she said. “So don’t worry, you can see how much it will be to repair and then decide whether it’s worth it.”
“Well, I, uh,” I replied, eloquently, thinking all the while of the ticking time bomb of a preschooler at my side. “Um. OK. Fine. I’ll buy it.”
At this point the cashier realized I had only been trying to explain what happened, and told me I didn’t HAVE to buy it, but sometimes I have a misguided sense of… I don’t know, dignity? For an inexplicable reason, I felt like I COULDN’T change my mind once I agreed to buy it. Possibly I thought the ordeal would be over more quickly if I just bought the thing and left. And part of me was hoping that I’d get a nice new coat in the bargain.
Well, anyway, I bought it. But I have to return it, for two reasons. First, it is white and will therefore look like crap in about two weeks. Not necessarily because I have kids, but because I spill stuff. Two, I found a second broken snap, which suggests that the snaps are terrible and will become a source of intense annoyance.
And now I have no way to end this. Oh! Here’s something. Yesterday I cooked and fed this to my family:
It’s called celeriac. I got it from the farm share. Is it not the craziest vegetable you have ever seen? The thing is HAIRY. This is why farm shares are awesome; I would never in a million years have purchased that thing.
It was surprisingly tasty.