Stinkin' in Target

So I woke up Saturday morning and thought to myself , “Hey, I’ll take the first kid that wakes up and go hit the stores early and avoid the crowds.” (You gotta take at least one child with you anywhere, that’s the rule. Divide and conquer, you know.) And I had just woken up so I threw on the clothes lying on the floor closest to my bed that had at least a 60% chance of matching. No shower, toothbrush, or comb touched me that morning. I even forgot to grab a cover-up hat.

Hey, who was going to see me? This was a lightning trip. This was Surgical Strike Shopping. In and out. No social interaction planned.

And then she flagged me down. My old High School friend and, surprise!, with her was the girl I took to the prom in my Senior year. She was looking good — pretty, smart, and successful. I was really glad to see her. Really. But…

Well, some forms of embarrassment are so intense that mere prose does not do it justice. So here’s my account in song:

Shopping in Target

(to the tune of “Walking in Memphis”
with apologies to Marc Cohn)

Put on my Dirty Shorts
Put Petunia in my car
Went out in the van with my grungy self
I wasn’t going very far
Thought I’d go to Target for a tiny shopping spree
Hopin’ no one I knew would see me
‘Cause I was as grungy as a boy can be

Then I’m Shopping in Target
Pushing the cart with the wobbly wheels
Shopping in Target
And everyone can hear my baby squeal

Saw a friend from High School
I hadn’t seen in years
She came right up to me in Target
Then I realized my fears
I had on sweatshirt, shorts, and sandals
My pits and breath were rank
She was smiling, looking happy
I was looking crappy
And I reaaaaly stank

Chorus:
I’ve got coffee on my tshirt
I’ve got rat’s nests in my hair
It’s not that I’m not glad to see you
But I hoped no one would see me there
And she saw me there in Target

Now we talked and laughed a while
And the catching up was good
And I tried to keep my distance
But she asked me if she could–
Say goodbye and hug me
But I stank in an awful way
And she thought–
“Tell me, are you a white trash child?”
And I thought “Ma’am I am today”

Chorus:
Put on my dirty shorts
Put Petunia in my car
Went out in the van with my grungy self
I wasn’t going very far
Went out in the van with my grungy self
I wasn’t going very far

So I chalk it all up to preparing for Christmas. I mean, doesn’t being embarrassed to your very core go toward mortification of the flesh? Suppression of the ego? Dying to self? Lots of room for the Spirit now, boy!

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