In blogging, just like running, consistency is key. So I hereby promise you that I will try to post at least once a day for the next week, even if it’s just a few words and a photo of my cat. Because hey, who doesn’t like cat pictures?
She’s very friendly, I promise.
If I’m going to be writing regularly, that means that the more mundane (read: non-running) details of my life are probably going to get more coverage. I’ll try to make them as interesting and/or funny as possible to keep from boring you to death.
Let’s start with my trip to Babies ‘R Us after work yesterday.
I’ll start right here by saying I do not have children. I do not plan on having any children in the immediate future. My husband and I are in agreement on this, and that’s how we like it. Don’t get me wrong; I’m thrilled for people who have kids or are in the process of growing kids. You have my sincerest thanks for single-handedly continuing the human race, one infant at a time. Without you folks procreating, we’d all be doomed and the machines would rise up and inherit the earth. So thanks.
So I went to Babies ‘R Us to pick up a baby shower gift, after ordering it online and choosing the “pickup in store” option. I did this to save on shipping costs (cha-ching!), and to eliminate the need to spend any longer than I needed to in a bricks and mortar Babies ‘R Us establishment. So after paying online, off I went after work, and I must say, it was a truly magical experience!
Within 5 seconds of walking in, a kind-hearted associate at the front desk must have smelled my fear and trepidation and greeted me, “Hello, miss! How can I help you today?” Wide-eyed and silent, I held up the printed out email with my order pickup info and she immediately swooped in, “Picking up? Great! Come right this way, I’ll walk you there.” Fantastic! A guided tour!
In the roughly half-mile* journey to the pickup kiosk (*I may be slightly exaggerating), I experienced no fewer than 4 children throwing tantrums, 3 very pregnant ladies screaming at said children, 2 befuddled fathers, and a partridge in a pear tree. My guide never showed any signs of fear; in fact, she walked at such a brisk pace that she became my running back (is that the correct term? I don’t know football). She cut a swift path through the bedlam as I followed behind her dutifully.
When she wordlessly deposited me at the pickup kiosk (which was in the back of the store where the crowd had mercifully thinned), I followed the instructions sign, which told me I simply had to scan the barcode on my email and wait. In about the time it took me to check my email, a teenager materialized before me, toting a Babies ‘R Us bag filled with my order. Prepaid, pre-packed, and ready to go! I thanked him and lugged my stuff out of there as fast as I could, and before I knew it, I was back in the safety of my car and on my way home.
And that’s the story of my epic Babies ‘R Us Adventure.