Category: From the mouths of babes

We took the feral child to Target. I know. We have a reputation at Target. Management has explained that we aren’t allowed to leave our children overnight and we’ve caused other stinks. Mostly we are loud.

The cousins are in town so we joined them and the grandparents for dinner at Chuck E Cheese. Tokens were mashed into money munching machines maniacally. The seven children ranging from just walking to just driving ran, danced, climbed, made funny faces, chased, giggled, and had a great time. We left Chuck E Cheese with much daylight remaining and decided to swing over to the West Hills Park. Naturally, there was juggling! The children played hard and further exhausted themselves.

On the way home, we reluctantly decided to stop by Target. With exhausted children, this could be disastrous. 20 feet into the door, Evan tries to wear some slippers he found on an endcap and when denied, broke down into screams and tears. I heft him up into my arms and carry him outside. I offer to take him to the car but he pulls it together slightly and we reenter the store. Evan is completely overdone so I decide to carry him on my hip. He doesn’t like this.

We each have our assignments. Noah shops for Cliff bars for his week of Boy Scout camp. Sarah searches for a video game to buy with the last of her birthday money. Cathy picks up shampoo. And Evan and I go for condoms.

Only one thing is more fun than taking a screaming child down the condom aisle. That one thing would be taking a screaming child down the condom aisle, saying "excuse me" as you reach over the other customer to grab a large bottle of Astroglide (click for a free sample) (see also Facebook and Twitter), grabbing a large box of Durex condoms as the child changes from screams to manic laughter and headbutts you, "Ow Dad! That hurt my head!" then watching the other customer hastily grab the nearest pregnancy test and run to get out of the aisle. Oh, of course, seeing the lady return muttering, "I didn’t know you could buy the wrong one." added to my amusement. I tried hard to say anything to her but couldn’t with a straight face. Evan and I make a good condom ad.

Evan has had it. Sitting on my shoulders often helps so up he goes. This gives him access to the top shelves where he grabs a box of band aids from here and leaves it over there. Of course, I cannot see what he’s doing. I mostly steer for the center of the aisles to keep his hands away from products. Sarah has disappeared with the shopping cart so here I am in the main aisle of Target with a screaming, squirming child on my shoulders, left hand holding the gallon sized container of Astroglide, and right hand holding a year’s supply of Durex condoms. Remember, I only had one penny donated toward a vasectomy and the DIY operation was canceled. I reach the checkouts. Evan is mad! We walked past his favorite toy and I would not let him down to play with it. Evan says, "I’m going to sit in your hair." He’s already sitting on my shoulders. Is sitting on my head an attempt to get down? He says it again, "I’m going to sit in your hair!" My eyes bug out. Spit! I turn to Cathy, "He’s going to spit in my hair!" Cathy, "How do you know that?" I feel the feral child bend at has waist. Sarah clasps her hand over her mouth, her eyes water and face goes red with laughter. Cathy laughs aloud. And the lady with the pregnancy test at checkout 6 hastily signs her receipt and runs from the store!