Wednesday, September 7, 2016
You have to figure the rules out for yourself
Whenever I go to Target with my wife, I’m like a bored 6-year-old. She’s busily checking items off her list, muscling slabs of paper towels into the huge red cart while I wander off, not quite humming “la la la,” but gazing dreamily around finding . . . what?
Sometimes products. “Affresh Washer Cleaner”? Really? People clean the inside of their washing machines? Whatever for? What’s next? “New Soap Soap! Makes your yucky soap bars springtime clean!”
Sometimes people. School is starting, so mom/child duos were stocking up on necessities for that first flap away from the nest.
“Do you want it?” a mother said, holding up a dish rack — a dish rack is a plastic coated wire assemblage for holding dishes while they dry, I should mention, in case any freshmen still read the paper.
“I don’t even know what that is!” the daughter huffed, in a tone of exasperated annoyance that compressed a decade...
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