The smell of Target

Everybody do us a favorite and take a nice, deep breath in the next time you go shopping at Target. Do it right when you walk in the door so you get the mixture of the scent of popcorn from the food court, the crispness of the air conditioner that hangs right above the entrance and that hint of new plastic. We bought our stroller and car seat for the baby the other day and at one point i had to close my eyes and pretend we were standing in the baby aisle at target under the bright florescent lights surrounded by dozens of styles and options for strollers and not in the middle of Bolivia's open air market with very little to choose from, store clerks trying to sell us things we don't need, all the while trying to ignore the smell of fried chicken, incense, and sewer. After three hours we were standing on the curb empty handed and trying to get a taxi home when Braeden decided that we weren't leaving without what we had come for, that this is what we had to work with and not a Target around the corner. By some miracle we found a car seat and stroller at the very next shop, completely different from anything else we had seen that day and we almost cried when he told us that we could have both for less than 100 dollars. i guess i can deal with the smell of chicken and sewer rather than popcorn and air conditioning if it means 100 dollars.