Target Vortex Syndrome

I stopped by Target tonight after the gym, thinking that I would just run in, return something, pick up some dog food and ant traps (quick side rant: It snowed here last week. Shouldn't all the ants be dead or dormant or whatever? Why am I dealing with ants now, for crying out loud?) and be on my way.

Is that what happened? No, of course not. Because I got in to Target, returned my wrong-sized plastic bin with no trouble - I've always found Target to be very good about returns - and headed blithely toward the back of the store where they keep the dog food. As I passed the socks section, I remembered that I needed stockings and a couple of new pairs of socks. And then the plastic bin section was next to the toy section, and I started looking at toys for my niece and nephew, which is trickier than you might think. My nephew is just about to turn five. He liked Thomas the Tank Engine a lot last year, but I'm not sure if Thomas is still cool or not. I know he likes dinosaurs, but the majority of the dinosaur toys seem to involve dinos coexisting with humans. And helicopters. Maybe it means I'm humorless and fuddy-duddy, but I just can't bring myself to give a child a toy that is so flagrantly paleologically inaccurate. Perhaps when he's a little older and truly understands the difference between history, fiction and Land of the Lost I'll feel more comfortable with those toys, but not now.

Then there is my older niece, who is two and a half. I don't know if it is just that she's a very girly girl, or if my conservative sister-in-law is unconsciously, or even consciously, I suppose, enforcing gender stereotypes, but all she wants is dolls, which she calls her "babies." This is where my commie pinko liberal tendencies come in to play. If my niece truly loves dolls and that's what she wants to play with, great. But I refuse to go along with potential gender role conditioning. But I also want to get her a present she will enjoy. See? It's hard. I'm thinking perhaps something artsy-ish, like Play-Doh. At least the baby will be easy. Babies aren't all that picky.

In the end, I found myself paralyzed by indecision, and didn't get any toys at all. After fruitlessly wandering the toy aisles, I looked at random potential gifts for other people, followed by blowing a bunch of time standing in line. To be fair, they did open up two registers once they realized people were stacking up in lines, but it still took a while. By the time I left, I realized I'd been in the store for 45 minutes, which explains why I was so darn hungry. Target is its own little universe, and it is all too easy to get trapped inside and lose yourself for a while.