You have a
secret date with Target tonight. Don’t
tell anyone. You are heading out for
“school supplies” right after dinner.
Target is
there, waiting for you. Smiling. Winking.
Opening doors (automatically).
When is the last time your husband opened a door for you?
Target does
not judge nor criticize. Target does not
say, “Hon, do we really need new
green and white throw pillows for the living room? I kinda like the yellow ones we already have,
plus I think you just bought them a couple of months ago.” No.
Target would never say such a thing.
Instead, Target whispers, “I can give you 25% off the green and white
pillows because they just went on clearance.”
Target knows
how to talk sexy. Target does not say
things like, “I can’t believe you didn’t wash the lunch dishes. What have you been doing all day,
anyway?” Instead, Target volunteers, “Did
you know that Pepperidge Farm Mint Milano cookies come in a mini-version now? Aisle 32.”
Your husband
stopped understanding you years ago, perhaps on your honeymoon. Oh, sure, he is kind and considerate, but he
never opened a boutique Starbucks in a corner of your kitchen.
Target
did.
Target is thoughtful
like that. You go to Target and right by
the front door is the barista, waving and saying your name. The barista has your double-tall-extra-foam
latte waiting for you.
Your husband might play games with the kids in the backyard, pretending to "bond" by running around and making up silly variations of Hide and Seek that combine it with Marco Polo. However, Target is smarter because Target has witnessed the essence of your children and knows what makes them tick: rampant materialism. That's right, Target has toys. Legos, Hot Wheels cars, Pokémon, action
figures, Star Wars items, sporting equipment. Toys
for boys, none of this Let’s hang out and
spend quality time together mumbo jumbo.
So you buy
the new pillows, the mini Mint Milanos, and your special latte. You also buy a cool woven purse and some fake
suede shoes that were not exactly on the official list. Remarkably, you somehow remember to purchase a few
packs of highlighter markers and fresh pencils to meet that “school supplies”
criteria. You drive home, humming your Target tune (“I love Target, yes I do,”). You walk in the door of your house and are immediately assaulted by your sons, who squeal, “Did you remember to get us anything from Target?” You pour out the items onto the dining room table and the children cheer when they see you bought them each a toy car for a dollar.
“I love
Target so much, Mom!” enthuses your older son.
“I think I will marry Target when I grow up!"
Get in line, kid.
MOV
