Fuck. I broke my own rule. ALREADY.
Kevin called this morning, accusing me of stopping up the upstairs bathroom toilet (which of course I did not, because my poos are small and dainty and smell like roses!). He then declared me responsible for procuring a plunger since our new house is plungerless and so.....where else does one go to buy a plunger over their lunch break but TARGET?
I am in the door for 5 seconds before the dollar aisle seduces me, and the next thing I know, my basket is mysteriously filling itself with cute felt holiday bags and sequined boxes and holiday toys for Lucy! Not content with stopping at the dollar aisle madness because hell, at this point I may as well rebelliously throw stupid holiday shopping rules to the wind, I fruitlessly scour the crowded toy aisles for a non-plastic toy camera for nephew James, after which I move on into Christmas card territory and then, not finding anything suitable or artsy enough there, debate over Christmas tree stars for a good 15 minutes for a Christmas tree we haven't even bought yet. I finally deposit the cheap fugly star I don't need in the lightbulb section, choose an un-age appropriate birthday card for my sister (kitten sitting on yarn?), locate a red Rubbermaid plunger, toss in a 3-pack of O-Cello sponges, order a Starbucks, and GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE.
I suck! But Target, Target does not because apparently, I am a prime example of their tremendous success. The holiday spenderiffic freaker.
On the drive back to my office I remembered there was in fact a plunger under the bathroom sink and that I really didn't need to go to Target in the first place. So ultimately, my slip in judgement is all Kevin's fault. He should know better!