Target Night

I have referred to Target night once or twice, and since I am cutting it so close, I may as well admit that the reason I haven't posted yet this fine Tuesday (besides that Jim is using the computer to watch back episodes of "Fringe") is that I have been out participating in my now weekly ritual. Here's how it works: we eat dinner, Jim and I get the kids to bed, and then I drive to Target, where I ritualistically search the kids' clothing section, occasionally the dollar bin, often the toiletries, and so forth. Also, my shopping partner almost always needs dogfood and diapers, so, another couple of stops along the way. Of course, the past month this part of the evening was significantly truncated, even skipped altogether. Not buying anything at all makes shopping somewhat less productive and interesting.

This Target store is in a super vintage eighties mall in Bellevue, and in the parking lot of said mall is a Mexican place we will call Torero's, because that is actually its name. This is the real reason for Target night (besides, you know, the diapers and the dogfood). The good people at Torero's know exactly what to bring us- two "small" blended margaritas, one with salt, one without, the chips, the cheese dip. Lately we have also ordered a spinach quesadilla, because a bowl of molten cheese with fried tortilla chips is not myocardially infarcting enough.

And that's it. We drink margaritas, eat chips and cheese, and discuss current events. Our own current events, usually, but whatever.

Tonight I bought a puzzle of the United States for a certain soon-to-be-four-year-old's birthday present, and a couple of scrappy sticker/pen-ish Valentiney gifts for both girls. At Torero's I managed to spill not one but two glasses of water (hic), one squarely in my lap for the classic wet crotch look (sweet). Even the waiter could not resist suggesting I had maybe had too much to drink (this despite knowing exactly how much I had to drink?). But, as always, hooray for Target night!

See you tomorrow!