An ode to shopping alone
It's that special time of year when I build a metaphoric bonfire of dollar bills in the Target parking lot fueled by light-up sneakers and 5,000 #2 pencils. It's back-to-school time.
But there is one special thing that remains safely tucked away deep inside Pandora's Pencil Box of School Supplies. Yes, like hope in the fabled Greek myth, freedom stays behind. Amidst the rushing of a gazillion folders and composition notebooks, freedom hangs back and says, "It's okay. They can't see you eat all the Oreos if they are at school." Freedom from my children. Freedom to shop alone.
I have written an ode to my sweet, sweet freedom. It goes like this:
Sharpies, highlighters, dry erase to buy.
New magnetic nail polish I've been dying to try.
There's Scotch tape, duct tape, trashy mommy mags.
Three spiral notebooks and wine with reduced price tags.
Glue sticks, school glue, what happened to rubber cement?
Pink erasers, mini staplers, my money's all spent.
But, I need some gym shoes in girl's size two.
Can't forget four lunch sacks, one the color blue.
I pass on jeggings, stick with leggings, consider clothes for the Y.
Like this pasta bowl with a rooster theme, a new book to try.
100-calorie packs, tissues for snot, cream for under-eye bags.
The twins need brand new tees; theirs are nothing but rags.
A latte from Starbucks now, cause shopping is hard.
But I'll be back tomorrow; I forgot to get index cards!
When the school bus comes I'll kiss the kids, "Sorry you can't stay!"
Then back inside to dive into Fifty Shades of Grey.***
Kiss the kids and wipe the tears, gals. I know we love them and will miss them. But, lets not keep Christian waiting.