A Family Milestone & Lynnette’s Hostile Takeover of a Seemingly Innocuous Target Trip

Today’s seemingly trite trip to Target was anything but. We were able to fulfill a lifelong dream of Madison’s today:

1That’s right. We used the extra-long, three-kid-seater shopping wagon for the first time.

56Madison begged to use this Star Destroyer of a cart ever since she could tell the difference between it and the standard one. We’ve never had enough tiny human reasons to before now. Originally, I strapped Avery and Cole into the front-facing two-seater and had Madison walk along with us. That lasted for about 10 minutes before Avery was displeased with her accommodations. I moved her to the rear-facing seat in the wagon and she was happy – for another ten minutes until she refused to keep her feet in the leg openings and flipped herself into a position which appeared to be both uncomfortable and a request to paint her like one of my French girls. Ever the opportunist, Madison plopped herself down in the seat vacated by Avery’s high maintenance and volunteered to feed the twins snacks in lieu of a fare. He laziness knows no bounds and this is how I know she’s my kid, though.

Now, the use of the extra-long, three-kid-seater is something that could only have taken place during a “Daddy-Only” trip to Target. Lynnette would have found a million reasons not to use it, including:

  1. “They’re not big enough yet.”
  2. “So humbug.”
  3. “I’ll just carry Avery in the Ergo.”
  4. “It’s not going to be kind of hard to push, huh?”
  5. “It’s so dirty.”

So, when I sent Lynnette a short video to share the momentous occasion, this is what I got back:

2First, you will note that for the second day, she questions whether or not  I have appropriately dressed my own children. Next, the video panned across all three children to reveal the use of the extra-long, three-kid-seater. Consequently, she uses both my first and last name, then combines a threat with an undesired outcome. Technically speaking, this is a solid, solid move. She lets me know I’m in trouble right off the bat, then cuts to the chase. Finally, she realizes quickly that there’s nothing she can do about it from such a remote location so she instead returns to passive-aggressively telling me what to do. Yes, of course I was there to return the Tupperware containers, otherwise I would have gone straight to Sushi Bay from the playground. C’mon, Lynnette, act like you’ve been here before. But if you think she’s done, man, does she have a surprise for you!

3In less time than it takes to put my phone in my pocket, a storm of messages besieged me. These requests are of the “since you’re already there” variety which any husband who has been 30 yards away from the check out knows all too well. The worst is when we don’t see the “since you’re already there” requests text until we’ve loaded everything into the car. It is there in the silence and solitude of the car that we must make a choice. Do we walk back into the store, get whatever it is that you want, get back in a checkout line behind that one lady who has 7 items without a price tag and wants a price check on all of them? Or do we just tell you that we didn’t see the text until we were on the freeway? This is the “To be or not to be?” of our time, ladies.

But I digress. You know what killed me? Lynnette nailed the names of of the Amy’s Frozen Entrees. “Even when she’s not here…” I muttered to myself as I picked them out of the freezer. I got to the coffee aisle and had some choices. I pulled the French Vanilla from the shelf and threw it into the cart. I got three aisles away when my better judgment kicked in. I called Lynnette. “I got original, French Vanilla, Hazelnut, and Caramel Coffee Cake,” I said. “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Lynnette said. “So…” I said. “Caramel Coffee Cake,” she said. GOOD JOB BY YOU, PHIL. I am not, by any means a fortune teller, but I could see the future in this instance. Had I simply purchased the French Vanilla (as allowed per her instructions, she would have picked it up with her right hand, flipped it to scan the back of the bag, then brought it to her nose to sniff. She probably would have closed her eyes. But, but, but, then she would have asked “What else did they have?” And I would have ended up doing the list, anyway. But then she would have said “Ah, should have got the Caramel Coffee Cake…” Then I would have said “But you weren’t specific in the text!” And then she would have said, “I know. Because I didn’t know what they had. Next time.” Then I would have thrown myself out the window.

You might make note of the gratitude and love thrown in there at the end. Had she not included them, I would have considered it tantamount to letting someone merge into the lane ahead of me without a wave or shaka; I would have been fake-mad but ultimately unwilling to do anything about it beyond just dropping a loud and obnoxious “OHHHH WOOOOOOOOW…”

Oh, just in case you were wondering whether or not Avery made it through the rest of the hunt for Lynnette’s deepest domesticated desires trip in the rear-facing seat – No. No, she didn’t.

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