I entered the mass market retailer yesterday presumably to pick up rations for the little people for our upcoming trip to Florida. Over twelve hours in the car with every convenience store clamoring for my husband’s hard earned money. I thought it best to pre-plan and hoard some snacks in the transportation device. Little did I know what was waiting for me in aisle four.
I have been on a shopping ban for 21 days (see prior posts), and I ran smack into the pajamas as they are across from the frigid veggie section. I am able to eye with all clarity a little camper from miles away. We live in the cutest little tin box with wheels. Lately, stores have made it their mission, to decrease our checking account with adorable camper themed items. I have three weaknesses: pajamas, bags, and Tshirts. Once in a while coffee cups, but before the shopping ban I ended up buying that. (In my defense I drink out of it every day)
They not only had one pair of morning roam around the house bliss but three. One set had “Happy Camper” with little RV’s on the bottoms, the second “RV there yet?” (Matches my caffeine delivery device of all things!), the third was a nightshirt with a simple little tiny house. I fondled each one and even laid one across my cart. Bad evil shopping ban! I returned it to the rack and walked away, yet I mourn for them. How cute to wear on vacation. Drinking my Joe, lounging in matching PJ’s.
Will I ever recover after being denied contemporary grandmother style luxury? Patting the little people on the head as they glide by in some type of 1950’s sitcom regurgitation? Would you like cream with your coffee, dear?
