Friday, July 2, 2010

Oh Walmart, why can't I quit you?

Just yesterday (in light of the spray-on glue/am I a shoplifter? debacle), I went to my little town's hardware store for some pool chemicals (pool boys and girls all over the world have gained my utmost respect, because this job is HARD with all the skimming and testing and balancing). I paid an extra $4, but it was worth it to avoid the capital of impulse shopping (you know I would have spent more than any $4 extra given my love of all things totally unnecessary...I'm looking at you, never used choo-choo train cookie cutter).

AND THEN...I read that they started putting out the school supplies (I did not go there, but I did read it on stlmommy's blog). My Achilles heel of monetary self-control? Anything manufactured by Fiskars, Crayola or Mead. While I'm not ready to return to the blackboard jungle (I'm still working through my summer reading list), I do love, love, love brand new school supplies (nothing trumps pointy crayons that have not touched anything except the factory machines). I thought I could get the same #2 pencil high from shopping for my monkeys. Alas, it did not work last year (I NEED my own 10 pack of Classic Color Markers).

What's a girl to do? I am helpless against the school supply/good deal combination. I guess now the score will be 3-1, advantage Walmart. Wah wah wah.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

The score

I am a little on the obsessive side (I love you forever if you just said, "I totally wouldn't have guessed that."). By obsessive, I mean one of my habits was featured on Intervention (you know that show on A&E where they feature a person who needs intervention because they are ruining their lives by drinking, drugs, eating disorder...whatever). My habit wasn't actually the intervention because this girl had an eating disorder (I love to eat), and was going out all the time (I hate stinky bars). But, in the introduction her friend was talking about how she had been a little "Mary Homemaker" (before the self-destructive behavior) and the friend said, "She even had her menu planned and posted on the refrigerator, I mean who does that?" Well, I do. Apparently, that makes me one small step from snapping and shunning all responsibilities for the life of a super skinny party girl.

So back to my obsessiveness. I have this unspoken contest with Walmart (pretty sure they don't even know about it). If things work out in my favor I get a point. If it works in theirs, they get the point. Pretty simple. The score this summer is 2-1, advantage Walmart. My point came when I presented a coupon for a free shampoo and the checker took off the maximum amount instead of the cost (giving me $1.03 over).

In that same trip, I missed getting one of the bags leaving a pool test kit (important to the health of my monkeys) and my DH's deodorant (important to everyone). So, I spent the $1.03 in gas to go the 20 miles round trip to retrieve my already paid-for items. Did I mention that it was only one hour later and they had RESHELVED it? I think the big W is making a lot of money doing this "forgetting." That was one point for the big box.

The next point came yesterday. Small monkeys distract me at the register, so I don't really pay that much attention. So, imagine my surprise when I was opening the bag at home and found Elmer's Spray Glue? I questioned the kindergartner and Cubscout (they didn't know where it came from). Then I had a thought, "What if, I didn't actually pay for this? That makes me a SHOPLIFTER!" I would have to take it back and tell them the mistake. But then, I found my receipt and there it was. I didn't inadvertently STEAL. I did, however, pay for and take home something I didn't need. Nicely played Walmart, nicely played.

Monday, June 28, 2010

"Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are"

is true enough, but I'd know you better if you told me what you reread. ~Fran├žois Mauriac

I just finished up If I Stay. I totally judged the book by its cover (I'm a sucker for light blue on the outside). The inside said it was a story about a cellist and her rocker boyfriend (chick-lit is how I roll), and the choices she had to make-- all complicated by one February day. The inside cover did not say, "Reader, watch out because the whole family except the girl dies in chapter two." I hate being blindsided. So the book was not about whether or not she stayed with her boyfriend instead of going to Julliard. It was about whether or not she stayed...ON EARTH. I hate to cry (except for in the privacy of the bathroom), but this book got me. My tears prompted DH to say something like, "It's a book." Even though it was totally tragic, it was beautifully written. I went back and reread the really, really good parts today. I'm not sure what that means about me.