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February 12, 2008
Today, I bought myself a couple pairs of shorts, a tank top and an adorable bikini. Then I stocked up on Easter Candy and new Easter baskets for the kids.
Phew! Good thing I got that done. It’s almost time for the the stores to stock for Fourth of July picnics.
I’m kidding about those purchases, but doesn’t it seem like retailers have lost their friggin’ minds when it comes to inventory? In mid-January, I walked into our local Target and was confronted with rack upon rack of women’s bathing suits, bikinis and cover ups. Further down were capri pants, short-sleeved blouses and mini-skirts. The few remaining winter clothes were crammed onto a few Clearance racks, as if winter was long gone.
This may be fine for Florida, but I live in Massachusetts. Today, the high temperature was 28 degrees. And I needed a new pair of winter gloves.
With low expectations, I went back to Target (hey, it is a mile from my house) to see if I could find winter gloves. Against all odds, I did find them. Two pairs of fleece gloves in between racks of kicky springtime pocketbooks and just down the aisle from all the flip-flops.
The other thing I noticed today was the huge amount of Easter stuff on display in the store. Who are you people buying Easter things in February? Please stop. Please stop now. Maybe if no one bought any of this stuff so early, the retailers would stop putting it out two or three months ahead of time. I’m not ready to think about Easter now, just like I was not ready to think about Valentine’s Day in December, or Christmas in September, or Halloween in August.
I’m aging quickly enough. Could we stop fast-forwarding the years?
Riding the Rails
February 11, 2008
Early last week, our youngest, D, said he wanted to take the train to visit Daddy at work. I emailed Fairly Odd Father (a primary mode of communication), and we agreed that we’d take the train into Boston’s South Station on Friday and all have lunch together.
We were late getting out of the house (of course), but managed to get onto the train without incident. The conductor hammed it up with the girls like a pro, telling them they had to “smile” to pay their fare. He then tried to make small talk with D who clammed up and refused to show any facial expression whatsoever.
Our meet-up with FOF and lunch went off without a hitch. We had some time to kill before our return train, so we wandered around the station. At one point, D saw a pigeon walking on the floor of the station. This blew his little mind.
A pigeon. Inside. A pigeon inside. Apigeoninside. Apigeoninside!!!!!!
He immediately set out to “catch” (his word) the pigeon which was comical. He had a sense of purpose: this pigeon must go back outside! Whenever he got close, the pigeon did a few lazy flaps of his wings and sailed 10 feet away. This made D scream in laughter. I swear, he’d still be there, walking after this pigeon, if we hadn’t pulled him away to get onto our return train.
Once I had the kids back home, the girls collected every spare shoe box and made their own train. Here is the train, about one-quarter of it completed. It now runs the length of my dining room. Their finished train had a hospital and a swimming pool.
Not a bad way to spend a freezing, sleeting Friday.
