Shopping with The Daughter

Last week I was assigned the task of taking The Daughter
shopping to get some new clothes. I am usually not the preferred
parent to undertake clothes shopping expeditions, but it needed
to be done, and my bride was already engaged in some other
endeavor, so I guess I got lucky.

However, since we were going to do this at Target, one of our
favorite places to shop, I didn't mind it too much. At least
there would be lots of things I could browse for while she was
shopping, I didn't expect to be too bored.

We arrived at our destination (which, lucky for us, is only a
few blocks away), and we proceeded to shop. First, I had to
make sure her cell phone was charged, as she would be calling
me when it was time for me to fulfill my part of the arrangement
(pay for her stuff).

The Daughter: OK, I'll be a while, I have to find some white
shorts with an awesome belt, and try stuff on. You go in the car
and wait. I will call you when I am done.
Me: Why can't I just walk around the store and look at stuff I
like?
The Daughter: No, because you will embarrass me.
Me: How can I embarrass you if I am not around you?
The Daughter: Because there are lots of people that I know that
come into this store, and I don't want them to see you.
Me: Tell you what, I will just wait right over there...
(referring to the cool benches they have at Target by the
changing rooms.)

Being a camera hound, I had to take some shots of them, as
they are so abstract:



After assuring her I will not be seen, I leave to browse the
store. I spend some time looking at the TV's and electronic
stuff. They have DVD players, burners, and printers. They have
2 Gig USB drives for 30 bucks! I first got a 250 Meg thumb
drive several years ago for $70.00!! They also have blank DVD's.
I could probably pick up a few of those.

Why is it that even if you already HAVE a DVD burner or a TV,
you still like to look at the ones at the store? The one thing
that Target does not carry is computers. I wish they did.

*****A Slight Digression*****

During the Halloween and Christmas seasons, when The
Daughter was pre-teen and sweet, we used to go around
and turn on all the noisy decoration displays. You know
how they have, for example, the motorized coffins, and
when you press the button all the lights and noise come
on? Or if it was Christmas, you turn on all the noisy
Christmas displays that play music.

I like when the seasons overlap, so we would run through all the
aisles and hit all the buttons to turn everything on. We would
then dash away, listening to an animatronic cacophony of music,
jangling bells, groaning zombies, and Ho Ho Ho's from Santa,
all blaring out from the aisles. We used to have such fun
together.

She used to be my little buddy. We would tell everyone that
I was Big Fart, and she was my sidekick, Little Toot. If I
mentioned that today, she would think it was dumb.

*****-*****

Next I went over to look at office supplies. I don't know why I
like to browse the office supplies area. I could go to Staples
and look around all day. It's not that I need any more binders,
folders, pens, or tape.

I wander back to The Daughter to see how she is making out.
She is trying on sunglasses. That was not on the itinerary.


She tells me she is trying to find a pair of white shorts
with an awesome belt. "Why don't you just ask someone?"
I ask her. She gives me a look of puzzlement. I look around
and find one of the Red Shirts that work there.

I ask her, "Excuse me, but do you guys have any white shorts
with an awesome belt?"

"Padre!" The Daughter exclaims. (You may recall that she is
still in the phase where she calls us Madre and Padre). "I told
you to go wait in the car!"

I find my way over to the garden center. I could probably hang
out here for a while. I find a nice quiet oasis where I can lay
down and maybe rest for a bit:

Just as I start getting sleepy, my cell phone rings. The
Daughter is ready for me now. I perform my fatherly duty of
paying for her purchases.

Now she must endure the ride home with me...she will be forced
to be in my presence during the five minute drive home.

Peace be with you.