2. Listen to stories about all the cute little things her amazing Papillon did today.
3. Repress urge to vomit and collect child.
4. Go home, make dinner. At this time, Norah either watches a Diego or a Dora, or she stands on a chair by the sink and fills cups with water.
5. Eat dinner. Norah dips dinner in applesauce and proceeds to eat.
6. Clean up.
7. Tears or screams of "NO, MOMMY!s"during clean-up.
8. "Norah, do you want to go shopping?"
9. "YES!" Brief boogie dancing.
10. Chase around house with coat and hat.
11. Drive to Target.
12. Begging to forgo Target and enter Playland.
14. Enter Target. Explore dollar aisle.
15. Long conversation ensues. Short version: "Can you put that back, Sweetie? No thank you, Norah. No-no, Sweetheart. We don't need a tiny pot that grows something. Nope. We don't need tiny notepads. No. No. No, Honey. No plastic bugs. No. No. Uh-uh. Sorry, Sweetie. OH, JUST PUT IT IN THE CART."
16. We move on from the dollar aisle.
17. I scowl at the bathing suit display. Norah says loudly, "Look, Mommy! Boobies!"
18. We hit the baby clothes and I pick out things that Norah doesn't need, but that are on clearance. Which makes them irresistible.
19. Norah starts to beg: "I want look at toys. Toys. I want toys. Over there, Mommy, over there. Mommy. Toys!"
20. We go to the toy aisles and she plays with the exact toys she plays with every time we go to Target.
21. When I can't take it anymore, I muster up an enthusiastic: "Hey! Let's look at something else!"
22. Eventually I pry her away and we desperately look for something else mildly entertaining in order to transition into the extra-painful part of shopping. Usually we end up in the camping area or backpacks.
23. We transition to the painful part of shopping-- actually shopping for things we need. If it's a cart-worthy trip, I will bribe Norah into cooperation by allowing her to sit in the cart-- not the seat designed for children, mind you, but the cart. I will brave judgmental looks from workers and random people. If it's a basket-worthy trip, I try to put Norah in charge of finding things. This works for one item. Possibly two.
24. After we make it through food, health and beauty, and hit cleaning materials, Norah is done with shopping. She starts getting extra squirrelly. This usually includes singing loudly, trying to escape my clutches, dancing or trying to skip, and pulling things off the shelves to play pretend. "This is Mommy," she will say, pointing at a box of Q-Tips she placed on the floor. "This is Daddy," she says about another Q-Tip box. "This is Baby," to a travel-sized Q-Tip box.
25. This will only last a few minutes. I've got a time-bomb on my hands. Once she gets bored, then entertains herself, the last stage is always "I GO HOME."
26. I take too long looking for something. Norah starts yelling, "I GO HOME! I GO HOME NOW!"
27. Now people are staring at us, as I try to reason with her, like a total moron. "Baby, we're almost done. Just let Mommy get the dryer sheets and we'll go home. Settle down, Honey. Come here, Norah. Norah! Stay by Mommy. Sweet Jesus, we'll get dryer sheets next time."
28. We go to the least busy checkout line.
29. I try to throw everything on the conveyor belt while holding Norah, because at this point, she has lost the will to walk.
30. People piling up behind us are visibly regretting choosing our line, as I try to open my purse and wallet while holding Norah, while fumbling for my check card, while apologizing for taking so long, while loading the Target bags back into the cart, while kicking myself for buying Norah more clothes.
31. Norah sweetly says, "Thank you!" to the check-out person. They smile, aww, and give her a sticker.
32. We stop by the customer service area and I chase her around with her coat and hat.
33. We head back to the car. Norah starts begging for Playland.
35. We finally pull into the driveway.
36. Norah says, "I want go shopping!"