I was about to start by saying that I love Target, but that’s kind silly, because I’m pretty sure almost everyone loves Target. I love to browse all the different sections. Sometimes, when the clearance racks are full, I check two or three different stores to see what I can find for under $5. My mom always says that I don’t really need more clothes (and she’s right), but if it’s less than $5, even she can’t argue with that kind of bargain.
My sister, bro-in-law, and baby Nate and I were at Target just Saturday. I found a new pillow, just the way I like them, for $6. I was excited, because I needed a new pillow, and, hey, the price was right. I sorted through all the clothes, tried on a few super-clearance shirts that didn’t work out, and went over to the sock section. I bought a pack of six pairs of a very certain kind of white athletic socks last year around this time, and I’m down to two pairs that are no longer all that white, which makes me cringe when I put them on. I have maybe two or three other pairs of socks, but they’re pink and ruffled… not socks that I want to wear for a day out walking.
I wanted the same socks I had on my feet at that very moment. Except, I had an inkling that I wasn’t going to like the price, since they were a “splurge” last year (meaning, I think they were $12 for 6 pairs… yeah, I have a loose definition of splurging…). As it turned out, the company no longer made the exact socks, and the similar ones were something like $11 for 3 pairs, and, just, uh, no. Not happening.
I looked. And I looked. And I looked. And I found the super-expensive socks (lovely, but no) and the cheapest socks (they don’t have the band around the arch of my foot that feels so nice)… and… oh… my… word. I was lost, utterly overtaken by the sheer number of choices.
I was trying to text the long-distance BFF (her name is Leigh, if anyone doesn’t know her… which, everyone should, because she’s awesome) about boy matters, but I was falling apart in sock-land because there were just TOO MANY CHOICES and the lights were bright and I don’t really know what else was wrong. When I have to make decisions from among nine-thousand options in a store, with a limited amount of time, I get anxious. Granted, if I have unlimited time, I spend hours and may or may not ever come to a decision.
I went to procure the half-week’s allotment of Diet Dew and gave up on the socks.
That was Saturday. Today is Monday, and Mondays are when my dad comes and picks me up and asks me what I’d like to do, which is invariably a (very small, because of my health issues) sweet treat and then… Target! It’s a different store than the one I visited Saturday, and those clearance racks were calling my name!
After an hour of sorting and debating and ultimately deciding that, while a seventh or eighth pair of leggings was lovely but a bit superfluous, I saw the sock section.
“Dad, I need socks. But… well, it didn’t work out so well when I tried the other day…”
Good ol’ daddy of mine spent what was objectively a ridiculous amount of time with me, looking at women’s socks. We eliminated the cheapest and most expensive ones, then the too-thin and too-thick ones, then the ones with the ankle band I didn’t like, then the ones that were too long, and after a quick analysis of cost-per-sock… I had only one subjective decision to make: white or gray?
I chose gray, because I just adore new socks, and once the whiteness, and thus the newness wears off, they kind of lose their sparkle. Gray will hide the forthcoming foot-grunge.
Dad came to the rescue, and the well-being of my feet has been restored. And they lived happily ever until next year, when I’ll have lost most of these socks and need to repeat the process all over again.